


Dive Bar

by writethelifeyouwant



Series: 2021 SPNKinkBingo Card [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Bi!sam, Bi-Curiosity, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Gay Panic, Gay Sex, Incest, Incest Kink, M/M, Male Masturbation, Multi, Slow Burn, Stubborn Winchesters, Threesome - F/M/M, Wincest - Freeform, angsty, cheesy flirting, idiot winchesters, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writethelifeyouwant/pseuds/writethelifeyouwant
Summary: After a one night stand with a random college chick turns into a threesome that also features his little brother, Dean- well, frankly, he panics. What’s even worse than gay panicking? Gay incest panicking. Luckily, Sam winds up being a little more cool about the whole thing than Dean ever would have imagined.SPNKinkBingo 2020 - Gay PanicSPNKinkBingo 2021 - Finger SuckingSPNKinkBingo 2021 - Virginity (coming soon)
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Male Character(s)
Series: 2021 SPNKinkBingo Card [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166888
Comments: 28
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

Sam told Dean he was crazy for even trying but Dean had a sense about these things; Sam didn’t. He was too considerate. Sam thought the fact she was out with her girlfriends meant she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t want to be bothered, but Dean knew better. The ones who went up to get the next rounds were the ones who were looking to be bothered. They were separating themselves from the pack on purpose, to give guys the opportunity to pick them up and show them a good time. They wanted to prove to their friends that they were desirable. It wasn’t a bad confidence boost either, even if the guys that came on to them weren’t what they were after. 

So, when the girl with the flirty eyelashes that had been staring over at Sam and Dean’s table for the past half-hour spun off her stool and went to lean against the unpleasantly sticky bar, Dean knew his window had opened. 

“Watch and learn Sammy,” Dean smirked and slapped Sam’s shoulder as he sauntered over to his target, fixing his best smoulder in place. 

The girl felt movement behind her when Dean slid up and motioned to the bartender that he was after another round, and she turned with a coy but almost predatory twitch to her smile. She knew exactly who was behind her. 

“Hi there,” Dean was almost leering at the girl. 

*

Across the room, Sam was resisting the urge to put his head in his hands and pretend he’d never met his brother. This was gonna be a train wreck. At the very least, Dean was about to end up with one of those margaritas the bartender was laying down in front of her thrown in his face. 

Deciding to spare himself the second-hand embarrassment of watching Dean crash and burn with the coed he’d been eyeing since they arrived, Sam let his eyes wander the rest of the bar absentmindedly. He was nursing his second beer of the evening, after pounding back his first one with Dean in their stupid post-hunt ritual. 

It was new, their whole ‘who can down their beer the quickest’ routine. Before Stanford, Sam was lucky if his dad let him _split_ a beer with them after a hunt, let alone chug one. But ever since he and Dean had been back on the road, it was like Dean was trying to make up for a bit of lost time, and things that absolutely smacked of immaturity were becoming part of how they lived their lives. Like how now, after a successful hunt, they always raced to the bottom of the first beer bottle, leaving the loser to buy the rounds for the rest of the night. 

When Dean started it, it was because he figured he obviously had the upper hand. He had _years_ more drinking experience than Sammy, and there was no way the little geek had drunk that much at college.

What Dean didn’t know is that, for a while there, Sam and his friends had gone through a bit of a mental breakdown that manifested itself in endless parties, borderline alcoholism, and a very brief experimentation with some drugs on the ‘gateway’ end of the spectrum. Really, it was Sam’s best friend Brady pushing all of that, but with how he had grown up, Sam felt he was due some kind of breakdown, and it had felt good to let go for a little while. So, when Sam beat Dean in that first chugging contest, it became a whole different ball game. Now every time they did it, Dean was defending his honor. And he defended it about half the time but that night, Sam had won. 

Exhaling quietly in amusement at the absurdity of their routine, Sam spared a glance back towards Dean at the bar. He quickly ducked his head down when he realised Dean and the girl were looking over at him, like Dean was talking about him. Why would you spend time telling the girl you’re trying to bang about your weird kid brother? Maybe she had asked who Dean was there with, just making small talk. 

_Yeah, that must be i_ t, Sam thought to himself as he took another swig and realised he’d finished it on the sip before.

Torn between wanting another drink and not wanting to walk into the middle of a Dean Winchester flirt fest, Sam tried to quietly observe his brother again, hoping he would have struck out by now and it would be safe to approach. Peeking out from behind his hair Sam could see them leaning against the high wooden bar quite cozily, and laughing all nice and friendly-like. 

_Damn_. It looked like Dean was gonna be right about this chick; she was into him. Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. _Everyone’s into Dean_. And now he was gonna have to sleep in the Impala tonight. For once he’d like to just have a drink with his brother and go home (to the motel) and sleep in his own (motel) bed. _Just perfect_. 

*

When Dany turned around to acknowledge Dean, who had just sidled up behind her at the bar, she was very pleased with herself. 

_Guys are just too simple_ , she mused. 

“Hi there,” Dean smiled down at her (he was considerably taller, despite her heels), charm turned on full blast. 

“Hey yourself,” she smiled back. She was friendly, but careful not to be too forward. Dean was the kind of guy that felt proud of winning the chase, she could just tell. And considering how forward she was planning on being after she made sure this guy wasn’t an axe-murderer, she figured playing coy for a little wouldn’t hurt. 

“So, this is kind of embarrassing,” Dean leaned down conspiratorially but still had to speak quite loudly to be heard above the noise of the bar. “My brother over there is a little shy.” Dean jerked his head behind him, to indicate where he had left Sam a moment before. 

Taken by surprise, Dany leaned back to look at Sam sitting alone at his high-top, who happened to look over at the two of them at the same time. Sam quickly ducked behind his bangs, trying very hard not to make eye contact. Dany giggled to herself. She had figured this guy was about to chat her up but he was over here asking for his brother who, based on his reaction a second ago, definitely _was_ shy. _How cute_. 

“And,” Dean continued speaking and pulled Dany back from her thoughts of his shy and cute younger brother, “he wanted me to ask you for your number, so he knows how to get a hold of me tomorrow morning.” 

It took a second, but when the penny dropped Dany burst out laughing. Dean beamed, proud of his choice in pick-up lines, and let Dany get the giggles out of her system. “I know, I’m adorable.” Dean shrugged as if to say ‘what can you do?’ and leant back against the bar, bringing himself closer to Dany’s level. “I’m Dean.” He held out his hand and she took it, still stifling the last of her laughter. 

“Well, let me congratulate you on your originality Dean. I _genuinely_ have not heard that one before.”

“Do I get a prize?” Dean’s eyebrows arched cheekily. 

“I don’t know,” Dany shrugged. “What do I get out of this deal?”

“Sweetheart, you get whatever you want.” 

“How about we start with a drink?” 

“Sure your friends won’t mind me taking up all your time?” 

Dany looked behind her to where she’d left her friends. They were all giggling and looking at her and Dean at the bar but trying to look like they weren’t paying attention to them at all. She shook her head despairingly at how unsubtle they were. Her friends were the worst. But she supposed they had more of a vested interest in how her night went than usual. Tonight was her dare night. 

“I think they can live without me for a little while.” 

*

“Wow, you’re really putting ‘em back sweetheart,” Dean laughed as Dany drained another beer. She was matching him round for round. 

“Well, I came out to have a good time tonight,” Dany shrugged, smiling mischievously. 

“How’s that working out for ya’ so far?”

“I’d say, so far so good, Dean.” 

Dean made finger guns at the empty glasses. “Get you another?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” she grinned as tucked her hair behind her ear. 

Dean rocked up to the bar and motioned to the haggard looking student behind it that he was after refills. When something brushed against his shoulder he jumped, reaching under his jacket until he realised it was just Sam. 

“Hey,” Dean drew out the ‘y’ on the end of his word. “Ma’ man Sam.” Dean smacked Sam’s shoulder and his brother tried to tamp down his bemused grimace. 

“How buzzed are you, dude?”

“Just the right amount Sammy,” Dean grinned wolfishly as he accepted the new beers from the bartender. The kid tried to take Sam’s order but Sam brushed him off. “Woah, you’re not tapping out?” Dean’s concern was almost comical. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna go back to the motel. Grab some shut eye.” Sam tried to sound sage, like he was making this move because it was the smart, responsible thing to do, and not let on that it was his loneliness driving him home too early for Dean’s approval. 

“No, come on man, I’m not letting you be a sap tonight.” Dean waved over to the bartender for another beer, over Sam’s objections. “N- listen. You’re gonna take this beer, bring it over to my table with Dany, and we’re gonna pick you out one of her friends.” Again, Sam tried to protest but there was a cold glass sloshing into his hand and a commanding grip on his shoulder and… he was always gonna follow Dean. “They’re all college chicks Sam. _One_ of them has gotta be geeky enough for you.” 

When Sam got dragged to the edge of the table where Dean had left Dany a moment ago, something felt off. Sure he felt a little awkward becoming the third wheel while Dean sealed the deal on his sleeping arrangements for that evening but that wasn’t what he noticed the most. Dany looked far too happy to have the extra company at the table. Most girls with Dean in their tractor beams didn’t want anyone interfering, he’d been on that end of the stick one too many times to forget how it felt. But Dany was relaxed and smiling, _beaming_ even, when Dean pushed Sam into a chair between them. 

Sam tried to settle into the easy conversation that Dany and Dean were having but he’s too preoccupied trying to suss Dany out to contribute much, despite Dany’s attempts to bring him into the discussion. 

“So Sam, Dean said you were the college goer in your family, what did you study?” Dany sipped her beer with her eyes trained on Sam. 

“Uh, pre-law,” Sam’s answer turned up at the end like a question. He wasn’t questioning what he studied at Stanford but he was questioning Dany’s motives in talking to him. Why wasn’t she just ignoring him and flirting with Dean? 

“Ah, smart guy. Interesting.” 

“What are you studying?” 

“Media and communications. I want to go into news or television.” 

“Well you definitely have the face for it,” Dean cut in smoothly. Dany flushed but she didn’t look embarrassed. She knew what she looked like. 

“Okay captain obvious,” Dany laughed. “You usually try this hard to get girls?”

Sam snorted into his beer, highly amused someone was calling Dean on his shit besides him. 

“Well I’m sitting here drinking with a beautiful woman. I don’t see any reason to pull punches,” Dean grinned. “Speaking of,” he leant forward craftily, “you got any other beautiful friends we can hook him up with?” Dean jerked his thumb towards his little brother. “I feel bad leaving him high and dry for the night.” 

“Dean!” Sam objected loudly, rolling his eyes. Dany just giggled. 

“Yeah I think I can help with that.” She drained her remaining drink and stood up. “Let me grab us one more round.” 

“Sounds great sweetheart,” Dean swatted at her ass as she passed him on the way back to the bar, ignoring Sam’s further objections to Dean’s new-found mission to get him laid. 

“Dude what are you doing?” 

“Helping you!”

“I don’t want your help!”

“Well trust me, you need it.”

“Do not!”

Sam’s objections were cut short when Dany returned with three beers and three shots on a tray; one clear and two amber. Dean reached for the drinks to help her unload. “What are we celebrating sweetheart?” He nodded to the shots. 

“We’ll find out soon,” Dany hedged, without giving up any more details. “So Sam, what’s your type?” 

Sam nearly choked on his beer. “Look Dany, ignore Dean please, I don’t need-” 

“No, come on, I’m invested now. What are you into? Boobs? Ass? Both?” Dany’s questions were curious but clinical. None of the teasing that Dean usually injected into the conversation when he tried to get Sam to open up about his sex life. Something in her tone was compelling. 

“Are we actually having this conversation?” Sam glanced between Dean and Dany astonishedly. “Did you slip something in my drink?” 

Dany laughed at Sam’s attempts to deflect but she could also see something in his face twitch, like his brows tugged up the corners of his lips. Something in him wanted to answer the question, wanted to open up to her. So she pushed. 

“Well?” 

Sam chuckled once ruefully, more to himself. Cracked his neck and settled back in his chair. Dany could tell he’d made up his mind, he was playing now. 

“Both,” Sam smirked. He was invested now too, and he wanted to see where Dany was taking this. Plus, it had been ages since he’d gotten any. 

“Okay,” Dany nodded and processed the information, deciding how that affected her line of questioning. Dean was keeping to himself in his corner, but he was having trouble hiding his grin behind his beer. This was already more than he’d ever been able to tease out of Sam. 

“Okay, so, not specific about body type, what about attitude? Feisty and forward?” Dany leant forward and trailed her finger down Sam’s arm. He smirked. “Or shy, and sweet?” She withdrew her hand, and ducked behind her hair. 

“Okay, why do I feel like I’m getting shut out here?” Dean laughed from his over his drink, not sounding as cocky as he hoped he did. 

“Don’t worry Dean, I’m not letting you go anywhere,” Dany smirked. “I’m just doing what you asked, making sure Sam here is sorted out for the night too.” Dany turned her smile back to Sam. “So which one? You like feeling in charge? Or you like getting a little roughed up like Dean over here?”

Now it was Dean’s turn to choke on his beer. “Excuse me sweetheart, what makes you think-” 

“Come on Dean,” Dany batted her eyes back in his direction. “I know what you’re after. I know you’re a boob man, that’s why you picked me. Your pick up lines and bravado, they’re looking for validation. You’re looking after your little brother, trying to make sure he’s happy, taken care of… you want someone to do the same thing for you.” 

Sam and Dean were both a little speechless. Dany reached past her empty beer and grabbed the shot glass with the clear liquor. 

“You sure you don’t actually study psychology or something?” Sam drained the last of his beer, impressed. 

“I’m not a shrink,” Dany smiled and shrugged. “I’ve just spent some time with some people, I know what to look out for.” 

“So, who are you picking out for me then?” Sam leant forward, now profoundly interested in what Dany may have deduced about what he wants in the bedroom. 

“Come clean time,” Dany knocked back her shot with a grimace and let the courage that came from lower inhibitions bubble up. “My friends and me, we play a game most weeks, pick a dare out of a hat. This week mine… was ‘have a threesome.’” Dany peeked up from behind her hair to look at Dean, who looked like he had just won the lottery. Sam’s expression was cautious. 

“Okay, so who else we taking home with us sweetheart?” Dean rubbed his hands together and turned to look back at Dany’s group of friends. 

“Sam.” Dany answered simply. 

“Which one’s Sam?” Dean was still scanning the group of coeds. 

“Uh Dean, I think she means me…” 

“My dare was a threesome with two _guys_.” For the first time that evening, Dany’s grin was a little sheepish. “Look I uh- I’m not just doing this because of the dare, it’s not coercion or anything. I wouldn’t be asking you both back if I didn’t want it.” 

Dean hadn’t found his voice yet. He was just staring at Dany, mind clearly running a mile a minute, and resolutely _not_ looking at Sam. Sam, on the other hand, couldn’t take his eyes off Dean. The only recognisable emotion on Sam’s face was the tinge of fear in his eyes, like he was waiting for the bomb to go off, and getting more and more anxious by the second the longer it didn’t. 

“Why don’t I give you guys a minute to talk,” Dany stood up and pushed the shots she had bought towards them, “and I’ll go grab my purse and meet you by the door?” 

“And by ‘you’, you’re speaking in the strictly plural sense?” Sam checked, fingering the whisky in front of him. 

“That’s up to you guys,” Dany smiled and rounded the table, dragging her fingers over Dean’s shoulders on her way back to her friends. That seemed to be enough to jumpstart Dean back into speaking.

“Dude what the hell?” Dean’s voice was so, _so_ close to a squeak, Sam really had to hold in his laughter. 

“What?” Sam was good at poking the bear. 

“What do you mean what? What the fuck?” 

“Yeah, I think that’s what she wants Dean. She wants to fuck.” 

“Yeah with me and my little brother!” Sam could tell Dean wanted to be shouting but he was keeping his voice to a hiss as best he could. 

“Yeah, so?”

“So?!” 

_God Dean was so easy to wind up_ , Sam grinned. “Dean, have you never had a threesome before?” 

“Uh, yeah, of course.” 

“You’re lying,” Sam was astonished. He figured of course Dean would have done this kind of thing before. “You’ve never done one before?” Sam had to double check. 

“What, like you have?” Dean defended angrily. 

“Uh, yeah,” Sam’s grin was an unusual combination of sheepish but proud. “I um- I have actually, yeah.” Sam reached back and rubbed his neck, at a loss of what to do with his hands right now. 

“What the fuck did you do at that college?” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Dean.” 

“Okay, so what, you’re saying you’re okay with this?” 

“I’m saying, there’s a real pretty girl over there by the door that wants to have sex. And she wants it _so_ much, she wants two dicks in the equation.” Sam fixed Dean with a firm, decided stare. And he was pretty sure that Dean’s uncertainty was about to evaporate. Dean finally met Sam’s eyes and Sam saw the fight melt out of him. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathed, then downed his shot.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Dany stood anxiously on the sidewalk outside the bar, just next to the doors, fighting all her impulses to look back over her shoulder to see if Dean and Sam were following yet, or if they would at all. A snippet of music blared behind her and she couldn’t stop herself from turning to see who was coming out the door. 

Sam and Dean ducked out of the crowd and pushed through the door to where Dany was standing, waiting for them. Her smile shone wickedly in the green neon lights that illuminated the parking lot. 

Sam grinned easily back at her but Dean still looked a little apprehensive. “So, where we doing this?”

“Where are you guys staying?”

“Uh, a Motel 6 a coupla miles up the road.” 

“My place is closer,” Dany offered. “And my roommate’s at her boyfriend’s for the week.” 

“Sure, that works,” Sam smiled.

“Great, it’s just a 10 minute walk from here.” 

“Uh, why don’t you text me the address and I’ll meet you there. I don’t like the idea of leaving Baby here overnight.” Dean flicked his eyes over to the Impala in the corner of the crowded parking lot. 

“Dean, the car will be fine,” Sam laughed. 

“Dude did you see how drunk everyone in there is getting? I’m not leaving her out here with those hooligans.” 

“Are you even okay to drive?” Dany asked incredulously. 

“Trust me sweetheart, I’m golden. I’ll meet you two kids there.” 

Dean shrugged himself more firmly into his leather jacket and jogged off to his car. He wasn’t sure why but he needed a minute in the Impala, in his safe space. He needed to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do and he wanted to do that without Sam scrutinising his every expression, trying to read his thoughts through his eyes. 

Sometimes he wasn’t so sure that Sam’s weirdo psychic crap didn’t let him read minds. Sam was always a step ahead of him, always knew how he felt about something before he’d made up his own mind about it, or knew what he was gonna do a split second before he’d done it. Sam was always _there_ , before he even knew he needed him. Except maybe that was giving Sam too much credit. Dean was pretty predictable; he always needed Sam. 

Throughout their whole messed up childhood, Sam and Dean had always been in each other’s pockets. They were more than brothers, they were best friends, they were the only real _good_ thing they’d ever had in this world. And this new idea that there was a wealth of information about Sam he wasn’t privy to had thrown Dean off his game completely. 

_Sam had had a threesome? When the fuck did Sam even lose his virginity?_ Dean always figured he had, if he thought about it for more than a minute, but Sam had volunteered a sum total of _zero_ information on that subject. 

_Well_ , Dean thought, _now I know he gets it up for ass as much as boobs._ What he didn’t know is why that thought irked him a little. He probably shouldn’t want to know that about his little brother, should he? And he was about to know much more than that. 

He was about to see up close and personal how much Sammy had paid attention every time Dean had tried to give him a ‘lesson’ about sex (if personal anecdotes of a high school dropout counted as lessons). It used to embarrass him and make him slam the door in Dean’s face. That was a big part of why Dean kept trying to give Sam ‘the talk’ in the first place. Winding him up like that was a guaranteed hour of fun, and when the motel cable was out Dean didn’t have too many other options. 

But somehow, without Dean noticing, Sam had grown out of the blushing, prudish pre-teen he used to be into someone whose sexual prowess had surpassed Dean’s own. 

_A fucking threesome, what the fuck? He told me all he did at college was fucking read, the little shit._

Dean’s phone buzzed with a text from Sam, Dany’s address, and he was spurred out of his small internal meltdown. Whatever had happened in the past, Dean was ready to take back the crown of ‘sex god’ and show Dany the time of her life. With two Winchesters in the mix, it was sure to be pretty spectacular. 

*

As Sam and Dany approached her building, they could see Dean’s outline leant against the back of the Impala waiting for them. When Dean noticed the pair coming up the walk towards him he kicked off the bumper of the car and swaggered up to Dany, giving no preamble before he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in for a searing kiss. Behind them Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s obvious ploy for dominance. 

The sound of whooping from a little way away broke them apart. A group that must have been heading to the bar they just came from were cheering and giving them all thumbs ups. Dany blushed and quickly moved around Dean towards her building door, digging for her keys. 

Behind her back, Dean threw Sam a wink. 

“Classy Dean,” Sam huffed. 

“Do I get a sneak preview from you too, Sam?” Dany called back. 

Sam smirked and pressed up behind her, smoothing his hands down her denim-clad arms and pushing the hand with the key in it towards the door. “I don’t think you want all those people walking by to see what I’m about to do to you.” Sam whispered in her ear, but loud enough for Dean to hear too. 

From that point on, Dany wasn’t quite sure how they made it inside and found her small apartment, because her head was swimming with the heady possibilities Sam was promising in her ear their whole way there. Dean had to admit, he was impressed. He never would have pegged Sam for the dirty-talk type, but he wouldn’t mind playing out a few of those scenarios Sam was offering up, and based on how glazed over Dany’s eyes had gone, she was definitely into it. 

“Do, uh… do you guys want a beer?” 

“Sure sweetheart, thanks,” Sam smiled comfortingly. He didn’t need the extra drink but he recognised that Dany was trying to ease herself into the situation, get comfortable with the idea on her own terms, in her own space. She dropped her jacket and purse on the counter and grabbed some bottles from the fridge, popping them open before turning back to Sam and Dean, who had followed her lead and also shed their jackets. 

Dean took his beer silently, the brazen attitude he’d had outside seemingly not up for joining them now they were in Dany’s apartment. Dany took a large gulp from her own bottle and giggled while she swallowed, amused at how obnoxiously loud the sound had been in the tense silence. 

“So...” she smacked her lips. “How do we…” Her eyes darted between Sam and Dean again. 

“Start this?” Sam laughed softly. He received two nods in answer. “It’s usually easier if two people start it off first, find a rhythm, then the other person can join in. You said, uh…” Sam pushed his hair off his face and rubbed at the side of his neck, deciding; he was here, he may as well. “You said before you ‘spent some time with some people’...” Sam looked into Dany’s eyes, intentionally and measured.

Dany’s exhalation was one of amused relief. “I had a feeling you would know what I meant.” 

“How do you usually play it?” Sam grinned, glad he’d understood correctly. 

“I’m easy. Go either way.” 

“Knew there was something I liked about you.” 

“Can you two stop speaking in code for two friggin’ seconds?” Dean huffed. 

“Aw, I’m sorry babe,” Dany did not sound very sorry in Dean’s opinion. “Someone feeling a little left out?” 

Sam had to hide his smirk behind his beer at Dany’s pout. Dean didn’t get a chance to answer, because Dany chose that moment to crush their lips together, using Dean’s surprise as her opportunity to lick into his mouth. Dean straight up moaned into the kiss, and hooked his hands around Dany’s waist to steady himself a little. 

“Well,” Dean laughed when they broke apart, “not anymore. You- uh…” Dean had to reach for the words for a moment. “You gonna tell me what you two were talking about?” 

“How about I just show you?” Dany backed up towards the open door behind them, presumably her bedroom, her eyes locked on Dean the whole way; beckoning, daring.

Dean did a double take over his shoulder, unconsciously checking with Sam, but he couldn’t have said why. To check if this was real? To check if Sam was following Dany? To check if he was allowed to follow Dany? Sam chuckled and used his beer to gesture after Dany, who had now disappeared into the bedroom, and that was all the invitation Dean needed, confident now that Sam would be right behind him. 

Sam entered the bedroom to find Dany and Dean making out on the bed. Dany was straddled across Dean’s waist, grinding lazily in his lap. Dean’s arms were wrapped tightly around her back, fingers pressing across her shoulders in a poor imitation of a massage. It wasn’t exactly the right angle for that. And besides, Dean’s mind was far too preoccupied with Dany’s tongue in his mouth. Sam could see it licking Dean’s full, pink lips, curling inside to tangle with Dean’s tongue, which responded in kind. 

Surveying the room, he located a desk chair around the other side of the bed, and made his way to sit down and get comfortable for the show. 

“Sam,” Dany panted without looking at him. “Pick out some music? I hate fucking when it’s completely silent.” Dany didn’t wait for Sam to acknowledge her but went right back to kissing Dean, drawing her lips down his neck, and scraping her teeth across his stubble. Dean’s moans were sinful. 

Sam flipped open her laptop and pulled up the music library, taking a second to look through Dany’s playlists and see if she had anything that wouldn’t immediately make Dean’s erection wilt. Deciding he wanted to rack up his ‘bro’ points early this evening, Sam opted for some slower Zepplin tracks that Dany had earmarked in a ‘chill’ playlist. 

At the sound of the first drum beats, Dean swore he felt himself get even harder under Dany’s hips. Groaning, he pulled off her lips with an incongruently childish smile. 

“I knew you were fucking awesome.” 

“Did I tell you to stop kissing me?” Dany snapped breathlessly. 

“No ma’am,” Dean grinned and happily went back to his task. Now he moved to untuck Dany’s tank from her tight mini skirt, and pulled it over her head with a practiced flourish. Sam had to give him props for that. Undressing while making out was rarely as simple as movies made it look, but Dean could have been in Hollywood with that move. He didn’t lose an ounce of momentum and immediately went back to sucking at Dany’s lips, reaching around her again and easily removing her bra with one hand. 

_Show off_ , Sam scoffed to himself, leaning back in his chair to get more comfortable, enjoying his show immensely. If Dany was right and Dean picked her out at the bar because of her boobs, he had picked well. God, she was gorgeous, and he hadn’t even seen her ass yet. Though her tight skirt gave him a pretty good idea that he would like what he saw when it came off. Sam’s jeans were starting to get uncomfortably tight over his dick and he reached to rearrange himself. 

Just as he gripped his cock through the denim he caught Dean’s eyes. They had been roaming Dany’s chest a moment before, but Sam’s movement had drawn them towards him. A throaty groan rumbled in Sam’s chest as he squeezed himself and watched Dean’s breath catch in his chest. Dean’s pupils went even wider, reducing the radiant green surrounding them to slivers, shining out through the low light of the room. 

In that pause Dany had gotten up off Dean’s lap to strip off her skirt, and now she was wiggling it down over her hips to pool on the floor around her ankles. Sam moved his eyes to Dany’s and decided he was done watching. 

Stalking over to her, Sam grabbed at Dany’s cheeks and kissed her violently. He dragged his fingers down her throat, her breasts, her stomach, landing on her ass and digging into the flesh and satin he found there. Sam’s hands clenched reflexively when Dean’s landed over his on Dany’s ass. He felt Dean’s fingers hook into the top of her panties and start to tug, but he spun Dany in his arms so she was facing Dean instead. 

Sam pulled her hair off her shoulder and leant forward to suck a mark into the base of her neck. When Dean moved to pull her panties off again Sam smacked his hands away. Dean looked up at his little brother, disgruntled and confused. 

“Use your teeth.” Sam’s eyes glinted in the half light. A slow smile spread over Dany’s lips to echo Sam’s, and she reached for the back of Dean’s head, bringing him face to face with the lacy edge of the last bit of her modesty. Dean nibbed at the skin on her belly before snagging his target and slowly drawing the fabric down, down, down to join her skirt on the floor. And Dean followed, dropping to his knees to place small, sweet kisses over every inch of skin his lips could reach. 

“Mmm,” Dany hummed contentedly, fingers still brushing through Dean’s hair. 

“That feel good?” Sam chuckled lowly from behind her. He was watching Dean on his knees from over her shoulder. 

“Mm-hm,” Dany nodded. 

“Where else do you want him to kiss?” Sam bit at her earlobe and she groaned. Without answering, Dany dragged Dean’s lips up her thigh towards where she really wanted him. Dean was all too happy to oblige her, and kissed her clit delicately, over and over, catching it on his lip and the tip of his tongue. It felt unbelievably good for such a light and teasing touch.

“Take your clothes off,” Dany groaned, pawing at the shoulders of Dean’s shirt, trying to push it down his arms. 

“Someone’s needy,” Sam teased. Taking the queue to shrug his own shirt to the ground and pull his tee over his head. It left his hair adorably rumpled. 

“You gonna do something about that?” 

“Get on the bed,” Sam growled, shoving her a little, but she was more than eager to comply. 

Dean’s shirts had joined the pile of discarded clothing, and he pushed his jeans down too once he’d stood up. He hesitated once he was in his boxers, suddenly remembering his little brother was in the room too and glancing up at Sam, who was smirking at him. 

“I wanna see you Dean,” Dany’s voice cut through the pause and Dean’s gaze shifted to her. Nodding, more to himself than to Dany, Dean lost his last piece of clothing, baring himself as instructed. Dany groaned at the sight of the long, heavy cock curving up toward his belly. 

“Come here,” Dany crooked her finger at him. 

Dean crawled up the bed between her thighs and returned to his previous task. He licked long stripes up and down, peeling apart her folds to reach the softest, warmest parts of her. Her slick caught on Dean’s 5 o’clock shadow, leaving a glisten everywhere he touched and easing the rough burn his stubble left between her legs. 

Dany had let her eyes close, revelling in the feel of the wet heat between her thighs. When she felt something tap at her mouth, they fluttered open again and were greeted by the welcome sight of Sam’s cock brushing against the seam of her lips. Her tongue darted out and tasted the slightly salty fluid he’d left behind, so Sam chased her tongue back inside her mouth. Her lips stretched easily around his cock and Sam groaned blissfully. 

Sam hadn’t had more than his right hand as company for a while, so pushing into Dany’s warm, wet, _so wet_ , mouth was irresistible. He forced himself further until he hit the back of her throat, pulling back to let her breathe when she gagged. 

“Oh you got better than that, I know you do,” Sam taunted, and Dany redoubled her efforts, sucking Sam deeper and deeper until he was back at her throat, letting him fuck her mouth while she moaned around him. “There you go,” Sam moaned and threaded his fingers through her hair to steady himself. 

Dean was still between Dany’s legs, lapping at her cunt with enthusiasm, moaning against her clit, nipping at her thighs. Dany’s whines grew louder and shriller, and they felt incredible around Sam’s cock. 

“He gonna make you cum already sweetheart?” Sam asked Dany jeeringly. “He really that good at that?” 

Dany couldn’t really nod while Sam was still fucking into her mouth but she moaned shamelessly, trying to buck her hips and get Dean to stay where she needed him. He got the message, wrapping his arms under her thighs so he could press his face hard into her centre, and flicking his tongue fast, back and forth over her clit. It only took a few seconds before Dany was shaking, Dean’s mouth tipping her quickly over the edge into her orgasm. Sam slowed but didn’t pull out, petting her hair while she came down from her high. 

“Dean,” Dany moaned, pulling off of Sam, “do something for me?”

“Whatever you want sweetheart.” Dean panted, looking up at her through his eyelashes. 

“Touch Sam. I’ve been thinking about it since I saw you two at the bar. Wanna see it. _Please_.”

“You hear that Dean?” Sam smirked, pumping his fist up and down his shaft. “She said please.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean’s eyes were wide and glassy, flicking from Dany to Sam, Dany’s slick still shining on his chin. 

“I don’t think he’s touched anyone else’s cock before,” Sam smirked. “Maybe I need to show him how it’s done.” He was still lazily stroking himself, a lusty smile spread over his lips. 

Dean didn’t think he should feel any better about that prospect than Dany’s request but he also knew if he thought too hard about it he would stop, he would back out, and he wasn’t about to stand down. Goddamnit, Sam wasn’t gonna scare Dean off now. If he did he’d never let Dean hear the end of it. 

_ Screw it.  _ Dean didn’t exactly say ‘sure, go for it’ but Sam correctly took his silence to be the green light.

Dean crawled up the length of the bed and pulled Dany down to kiss him. She could taste herself on his tongue, thick and cloying. Dean tried to devour her, kneading her breasts and losing his fingers in her hair, desperately trying to distract himself from what he knew was coming. He grunted when he felt fingers dance over the head of his cock and drag down its length. Nervous about what he would see, he looked down, relieved when he saw the clearly female hands rather than Sam’s. Sam’s hands that have apparently done this before, touched another dude’s junk before.  _ Hang on.  _

“Wait, Sam,” Dean panted. Trying to collect the thoughts he’d had just a moment ago was harder once Dany started jerking him off. 

“Yes Dean?” Sam had been expecting the protest, the hesitation, and he sat by their feet, gently stroking up and down Dany’ legs. 

“You’re gonna ‘show me how it’s done’?” The air quotes were heavily implied in his voice. “When the hell have  _ you _ touched someone else’s dick?” Dean was agitated, almost indignant. Sam knew he’d be nervous about it but this felt like more than that for some reason, not that Sam could fathom what that reason was. 

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, “I’ve done this before.” He nudged his way between the tangle of legs on the bed and clasped a hand on Dean’s hip. Somewhere deep inside he questioned whether that was to steady Dean, or himself. “So just, let me do this, okay?” And without any more preamble Sam was sinking his mouth over Dean’s cock, chasing Dany’s fingers down his shaft, and not stopping until his nose was pressed against the skin of his brother’s waist. 

“Shit!” Dean nearly choked on how good it felt. He had to fight to keep his hips from fucking further down Sam’s throat, scared he’d hurt him somehow. He’d never had anyone able to take him that deep. 

Dany was kissing down Dean’s neck and chest, leaving small bites in her wake, but all the while keeping her eyes locked on Sam bobbing up and down on his brother's cock. Christ, she didn’t think she’d seen anything that hot in her life before. Every time Sam pulled back, his lips dragged across Dean’s skin and she could see his tongue twisting around the shaft the whole way, leaving trails of spit to drip back down into the curls his nose had just been pressed against. And all the while,  _ Sam _ was moaning, humming every time he got Dean back down his throat. Dany didn’t have a dick but she would have bet a whole lot of money that that felt incredible. 

“Fuck,” Dean whined, high in his throat and breathless. 

“Hey Dean,” Dany whispered against his ear. “I think Sam was being serious when he said he knew what he was doing.” 

“Yeah, no sh-  _ shiiit _ .” Dean’s scoff was bitten off in a moan when Sam pulled back and sucked sloppily on his tip. “What the fuck  _ did _ they teach you at that college?” 

Sam pulled off with a laugh and shook the hair out of his eyes, but he didn’t let go of Dean, still pumping his hand firmly up and down. 

“I didn’t just learn out of books at Stanford.” Flicking his gaze to Dany for a moment, Sam drew her attention away from her assault of Dean’s neck. “Condoms?” 

“Yeah,” Dany panted and spun to grab them out of her bedside drawer. “How many-” 

“Two,” Sam grunted and reached for them. Dropping one aside for the moment, he tore into the other packet and rolled it quickly down Dean’s length. “C’mere sweetheart,” Sam grabbed Dany’s hand and pulled her up into an earnest kiss, taking his time to twist his tongue into her mouth and kiss until he’d taken her breath away. When he pulled back she just stayed there, eyes closed and swaying a little. 

“Get on,” he smirked, nodding at Dean’s cock, still standing tall and hard in his hand. 

Dany climbed over Dean’s lap happily, still facing Sam. Dean grabbed at her ass and pushed her apart so he could watch his cock disappear between her legs, groaning as her hot, tight, pulsing cunt sucked him in greedily. 

“God you look good like that,” Sam grinned, brushing her hair out of her face. Dany whimpered at the compliment, shifting minutely back and forth, trying to adjust to Dean inside of her. Sam noticed and smiled. “He’s big isn’t he?” 

“Mm-hm,” Dany sighed. “How did you fit him in your mouth?  _ Jesus _ .” 

“How’s she feel Dean?” 

“Awesome,” he grunted, grinding his hips up a little harder, trying to get into a rhythm of fucking up inside her. “Fuckin’  _ tight _ .” Dany squeezed around him, dragging another expletive from his lips. 

“Stop teasing ‘im now, come on,” Sam laughed, smacking her on the ass. 

“But it’s so fun to tease him,” Dany pouted and ground down in a slow circle. Dean couldn’t even make a coherent word this time. 

“Yeah but we both know how desperate you are for more.” Sam reached forward and wound his fingers in the hair at the base of her skull, pulling himself up to his full height on his knees so she had to look up to his face. “You’re so desperate for cock you wanted two of us here,” he sneered. “Dean here is just your warm up. Show me what I have to look forward to.” 

Dean groaned again when Dany clenched around him instinctively at Sam’s words. She quit teasing and did as Sam said, starting to move in earnest now. With each bounce up and down she picked up her pace, gasping when she tipped back just enough to get Dean to fuck right against her g-spot with each pass. 

Sam stroked himself as he watched Dany take her pleasure, using Dean as a means to an end. And Dean was more than happy with his role if the look on his face was any indication. His eyes were scrunched, his mouth open and panting, head tipped back with the strain of focusing all his energy into his hips. He’d planted his heels in the mattress for extra leverage so he could pound into Dany as urgently as she was fucking back on to him. Her fingers groped behind her, looking for purchase on something but slipping off the sweat beading on Dean’s chest. 

Dean circled his arms around her waist and pulled them back up the bed, miraculously keeping his dick inside her as he did, and ended sitting up behind her, chest to back, so she could drop her head onto his shoulder while he took control, setting a punishing pace. His hands moved to her breasts, pinching at the nipples until they stood hard and pink and made Sam’s mouth water. Sam watched Dean bury his face in the crook of her neck but he didn’t have the energy to kiss it. His mouth just hung open, teeth scraping over the damp skin every time Dany lurched upwards. 

In this new position Dean felt even deeper and Dany was so close to falling over her edge a second time. She reached between her legs to rub at herself, not caring enough to put on a show for Sam, who she knew was still jerking himself off as he watched them, just wanting to feel that release as quickly as possible. As her whines crept higher and higher in her throat Dean’s eyes flickered open and he noticed her hand between her legs. With renewed vigour, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside her, chasing his own high. 

He didn’t know what made him do it. There were so many moans and whimpers saturating the air around them he couldn’t really have been able to tell _ that one _ was Sammy’s but he thought he heard it, and he opened his eyes to look up to his little brother, still sitting on the end of the bed watching them, and when their eyes met, Dean broke. 

His eyelids crashed down again as his hips stuttered and bucked erratically into Dany, who had hit her own edge moments before. Dean’s breath caught in his chest as he came down still rocking up into Dany’s warmth reflexively, letting the last pulses of pleasure squeeze out of him into the condom. 

Sam didn’t give them much time to relish in their moment, nearly on the verge of cumming himself after watching their little performance. He quickly ripped into the second condom packet and rolled it on. Then he reached out for Dean’s legs and pulled the recovering pair back down the bed, so Dean was lying flat again. 

Dany pulled off of Dean with a groan and leant forward to kiss Sam. He indulged her for a moment before he manhandled her off Dean’s lap to flip her around and reposition her, this time hovering over Dean on all fours. He straddled Dean’s thighs and leant down to lap at the slick pooling on the lips of Dany’s pussy, and flicking his tongue further down over her clit, which drew an agonised gasp from above him. Dany braced her forehead against Dean’s chest when she felt the tip of Sam’s cock nudge against her, pushing gently into the silken heat his tongue had just been probing. Sam had been right before; Dean was just a warm up. 

As soon as he’d bottomed out Sam broke into a brutal pace, his position allowing him to fuck into Dany harder and quicker than Dean had been able to from beneath her. He was rewarded with Dany’s keening and small, mewling whimpers that filled the heavy air around them. 

Sam folded himself over her back and laced his fingers through hers on the bed. Each thrust pitched Dany harder and harder against Dean, who was still beneath the pair, holding Dany’s head against his heaving chest, stroking her hair softly. 

It didn’t take Sam long to build up to his own orgasm and when he was close, he pulled his head up and locked eyes with his brother over Dany’s shoulder. 

“Touch her Dean,” he grunted, pushing faster and faster to reach his peak. Dean complied without hesitation, fumbling between Dany’s legs until her whine told him he’d found her clit, and seconds later it was over, Sam’s eyes finally leaving Dean’s when he came, slamming shut as he choked out a groan and went rigid inside Dany’s body. Dany was twitching between Sam and Dean, breath leaving her in shudders that rocked her whole body. Dean kept petting her hair, waiting for her breathing to even out. Eventually Sam relaxed and slumped down over the pair, struggling to regulate his own breathing. For a moment, the silence was comfortable and soothing, but that quickly became too much for Dean. 

“Dude, not to kill the moment, but get your behemoth body off’a me.” 

*

In the end, Sam was glad Dean had insisted on driving the Impala over to Dany’s; it saved them the walk back to the bar at the ass-crack of dawn. 

After the three of them had untangled on the bed, they’d gone through the standard motions in a state of semi consciousness. Tying off condoms, grabbing glasses of water, hunting for lost underwear and t-shirts. Dany convinced them to stick around for the night. The bed was a bit small for three people, especially when two of them were the size the Winchesters were, but it did the job for a few hours. 

Sam jerked awake in the grey light of an autumn predawn when Dean’s arm accidentally whacked him in the face. He retaliated in kind, flicking Dean perfunctorily on the forehead to wake him from his snuffling sleep. Two bathroom breaks and a hurriedly scribbled note later, the brothers were staggering across the blacktop and settling onto the black leather bench they called home. 

At first the silence was easily explained away by lack of sleep and the early hour. Their post-case exit strategy was routine enough that the stop-off at the motel to retrieve their bags and extract a cup of coffee from the vending machine in the lobby was all handled non-verbally, without complaint or complication. 

And for a while, they just drove. The grey light of the morning had turned into a grey day, the clouds hanging low over their heads and their mists creeping out across the countless fields that lined the highway. But the further away from that small college town they drove, the heavier the silence hung around them. By lunch time it became apparent that Dean hadn’t been driving anywhere in particular and while he breezed through a Gas-n-Sip to scrounge up some food, Sam scoured the newspapers he’d managed to find out front. 

Dean’s first attempt at speech caught in his throat, and he had to hide it behind a cough before he tried again. “Anything interesting?” He nodded at the paper Sam had spread across his lap, tossing him a bottled smoothie.  _ What a girl.  _

“Uh,” Sam glanced at Dean, who was resolutely picking through a packet of jerky, then cleared his throat. “No, um, nothing that looks like our sort of thing.” 

“Awesome,” Dean grunted and cranked the ignition. 

Sam chanced another look at his brother as they drove down the main street of whatever sleepy town they’d stopped off in. Dean was staring out at the road in front of them, seemingly concentrating on driving, but Sam could tell his eyes weren’t actually taking in anything in front of them. Whatever he was seeing it was only in his head, and he didn’t seem inclined to share with the class. 

“Do we need t-”

“Nope.” 

“Were you gonna let me actually finish my sentence?” Sam griped. 

“We don’t need to talk about it, Sam, there’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Oh, really? That why you’ve been all ‘Silence of the Lambs’ since we left this morning?”

“Oh and what, you’ve been Mr. Chatty Cathy?”

“I’m just saying-”

“There’s nothing to say, Sam. So we banged the same chick last night, so what? She was hot, it was fun, end of story. I don’t need a damn debrief.” 

“Come on, Dean, that is  _ not _ all that happened last night. You really expect me to believe nothing’s up with you?”

“You play 20 questions with all your one night stands or am I just lucky?” Dean sneered, glancing to his right for the first time since Sam had started talking and immediately regretting his decision. Looking at Sam only magnified the chaos he’d been slowly descending into since last night. 

“Newsflash, Dean, what we did last night wasn’t exactly your typical Saturday night.” 

“Sorry, didn’t realise you need a psych eval every time you get laid.”

“I’m not the one refusing to talk about my feelings here Dean!”

“I said drop it, Sam.” Sam rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie. Dean let him close himself off, relieved that at least for now, he would be left alone with his thoughts. He reached forward to turn up the radio in an attempt to drown them out, but it still wasn’t quite loud enough to cover Sam’s soft exhalation of  _ ‘jerk’ _ . 


	4. Chapter 4

At their next stop off, for a dinner that was slightly more substantial than their gas station lunch, they still weren’t talking. There was nothing to talk about besides what Dean resolutely refused to address, so Sam stuck to his silent treatment. 

Sam wasn’t sure why he wanted Dean to talk about the previous night so badly. If Dean turned around and asked him how he felt about what went down, he wouldn’t have a good answer. It was probably unfair of him to expect Dean, of all people, to be able to process it if not even Sam could. _Okay, it was definitely unfair_ , Sam thought to himself. But in true little brother fashion, there was no way he was about to own up to that. 

Why did he have to make it such a big deal? Like Dean said, so they banged the same chick, so what? 

_But that’s not all you did_ , that voice in Sam’s head pushed in again. _You blew your big brother. Looked the man in the eye, the man who practically raised you, then sucked his cock down your throat. What the hell made you think that was a good play?_

Dean had enjoyed it though, hadn’t he? It definitely sounded like he had. _But how does that make it better, Sam, seriously?_

_It does_ , he argued with himself. _It does because if he enjoyed it too then it’s not just me that’s screwed to all hell._

*

Dean could tell Sam was up in his head, obsessing over the night before. And the longer Sam stayed quiet, the more Dean worried about what he might be thinking about it. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what they’d done last night wasn’t normal. Wasn’t good. Except it was. It had been so fucking good he’d felt the ghost of Sam’s fingers and lips on his dick every time he had the misfortune to think about it again. And that had been a lot. _That’s why you did the right thing shutting Sam up earlier,_ he reminded himself. Not the time to be popping random boners like a teenager. But the silence was making him self conscious as fuck. 

Once he’d made it through his burger, Dean pulled out his phone and started cold calling hunters, asking around for any leads in the midwest. They got a dime about a string of mysterious deaths about 100 miles south; violent and fairly improbable deaths. Very distracting. _Thank god._

The Impala was a little less tense now that they had a problem to solve. Their voices sounded a little less strained when they ran through the typical gamut of supernatural evil that could be causing all the mayhem they were driving for. 

When they made it into town, it was late enough that most reputable establishments would have been annoyed with them trying to get a room at that hour. Luckily, they didn’t stay in many reputable establishments, and the motel Dean pulled up next to didn’t bat an eyelid when two guys walked in with next to no luggage and wanted to pay in cash. They saw that a lot. 

Right now, Dean wasn’t wild about what they must have thought they were there for, and his insides were screaming out - _Not here to fuck, I swear! Just your standard monster hunt. Nothing to see here. Not brothers sleeping with each other, that’s for sure._ But as he couldn’t reasonably set the record straight, Dean left it, and strode back to the car to grab his duffle before cracking into their motel room. Sam followed close behind, slinging his own duffle onto his chosen bed. 

*

Exiting the bathroom after he’d gotten ready for bed, he was met with Dean holding a bottle of bourbon and wearing a conciliatory expression. Still silent, Sam nodded and accepted the glass Dean handed him a moment later. 

Sam settled onto his bed, already in just his t-shirt and boxers, and sipped quietly at his drink. Dean set his glass down on the table between them and took his own turn in the bathroom. He emerged in his typical sleep gear which, Sam all of a sudden remembered, was just his boxers. 

_Jeez, put a shirt on._ Sam tried to look anywhere other than at his very nearly naked brother, but it picked at him that if last night wasn’t a big deal, this shouldn’t bother him. It had never bothered him before. _Although…_ Sam thought to himself. He had _looked_ before, noticed the muscle definition, the odd freckle that hid behind the hair on Dean’s chest. 

Sam gulped down nearly half the bourbon in one go in an attempt to burn that thought out of his mind as quickly as possible. That is not how little brothers look at their big brothers. That is not how he looks at Dean. It’s just because he likes guys, at the very least he likes having sex with them. That much he’d come to terms with at college. And it’s not like there’s many dating opportunities in hunting, and Dean didn’t know anything about Sam’s broader sexuality so he wasn’t about to hook up with a guy at a bar when Dean was expecting him to take home a pair of boobs; or more typically, sulk off to the impala while Dean and his guest got their motel room for the evening. Dean was just the only guy around most of the time, that’s all. And since Jess, and then hunting, it had been years since he’d had the chance to to really look at another guy like that. So yeah, he looked, because Dean was not a bad thing to look at. 

But right now, Sam’s brain was at war with itself, one side wanting Dean to pull on a shirt and the sweats he’d wear when it got cold, and the other side wanting to peel off the last bit of fabric covering Dean’s skin so he could get a real look. And maybe another taste. And with that, Sam downed the rest of his drink, flicked off the table lamp, and quickly tucked himself under the covers with Dean at his back, who was left to stare blankly at a lump of blankets and messy hair, his full glass of whisky in his hand. 

*

Even though they’d driven a fair bit south of where they’d been yesterday, the grass still crunched under his boots when Sam trod across it the next morning. He’d already been out for a short run, and arrived back at the motel to find an empty room, with Dean presumably out looking for food. Sam settled himself with his laptop on a picnic table and rebooted the pages he’d had open the previous night at dinner when they started looking into this case. He brought up a new window to look into a thought he’d had on his run earlier. 

“This is a crappy park.” Dean arrived with their coffee and shoved a paper cup towards Sam, which he took gratefully.

Sam chuckled incredulously when he looked up to his brother, attention momentarily drawn away from his laptop screen. “The park is fine, Dean.”

“No swings. You gotta have swings in a park.” Dean shoved half his donut into his mouth.

Sam fixed him with an admonishing stare for a moment before letting out his amusement in a sharp exhale. “Okay, sure.”

“The swings were always your favourite. You don’t remember that?” Sam shook his head puzzledly. “Yeah,” Dean huffed in the way he does. “When you were a rugrat I couldn’t pull you off those things. Said it felt like flying.” 

Sam stared at him for a moment with something behind his eyes that Dean couldn't work out. He ran out of time to try; Sam’s hair fell back in front of his eyes when he looked down to his laptop again. 

“Hey, so, get this. I’ve been looking into the local lore and I think our victims -”

“How do you have wifi right now?” Dean asked through a mouthful of the other half of his donut.

“Phone hotspot. Want to focus for a second, Dean? People are, you know, dying here.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dean grumbled. And he tried to focus on what Sam was saying about the creature that might be hanging out in the woods that he ran by that morning, Dean swore he was trying. But deciding to focus on Sam’s lips as a means to concentrate on the words that were coming out of them proved to be a thoroughly misguided strategy. Because the second he looked at Sam’s lips all he could think about was what they had looked like wrapped around his cock. What they’d felt like dragging across his skin. When Sam’s tongue flicked out to catch a drop of coffee that had beaded on the rim of the cup, Dean’s own tongue went dry, his breath caught in his throat. 

_What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole?_ Dean hoped his distress wasn’t showing on his face. It seemed like he was doing a decent job at convincing Sam he was listening, because Sam was still talking. This was really gonna bite him in the ass later if he had no clue what Sam was saying this whole time. 

_Maybe you want Sam to bite you in the ass? Fuck,_ no, _stop it_. Dean was used to arguing back and forth with some semblance of a moral compass, though it usually lost, but this time he needed it to win. He had just been sitting there remembering how he used to push a little Sammy on the swings when he was squirt sized. _Jumping from that, to wanting him to suck you off does not make you a good brother. Know what it makes you? An asshole._ He was supposed to protect Sammy, take care of him, not _take care_ of him. 

“Dean,” Sam’s voice saying his name cut through the noise in his head, and he looked up at his little brother. He hadn’t realised he’d been scrubbing his hands across his face, no wonder Sam was looking at him like a sad puppy right now. “You okay, dude?” There was a hint of annoyance but it was mostly concern.

“Yeah,” Dean blinked and ran his fingers up over his face to scrub through his hair. “Totally awesome.” 

“Okay, well,” Sam didn't seem convinced, but maybe he wasn’t in the mood to push it. “Let’s go get our fed suits on and head over there.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Dean swung off the picnic bench and crumpled his coffee in one hand, tossing it to the nearest trash can. Sam snickered when it bounced off the rim, and flung his own to the same can from further back, landing it dead centre. Smirking, he set off with his laptop under his arm and Dean pulling faces behind him the whole walk back to the motel. 

“Where we heading again?” 

The glare Sam gave him made it clear he wouldn’t be getting an answer. 

*

By the time they’d made it to the local bar and restaurant that evening to grab some food and scrutinise the local wildlife for signs of supernatural proclivities, Sam was seriously confused. Dean had been acting off the whole day. And not just in the typical evasive act he pulled when he didn’t want to talk about his feelings, he was spacing out of conversations about perfectly mundane things. Witnesses had started getting annoyed with him after the third time he asked the same question Sam had literally seconds beforehand. When they’d been let into the room of one of the victims, a girl about their age - just out of college, he hadn’t made any jokes about her extensive stuffed animal collection ( _those bears were freakin’_ everywhere _man_ ), or the vibrator not so skilfully hidden down the side of her bed. When Sam had switched the music in the car, no warning and no asking for permission, Dean hadn’t batted an eyelid. And Sam had changed it to smooth jazz. 

Now Sam was standing, bewildered, by a barrel serving as a table that he’d been about to sit down at, because when he’d grab Dean’s shoulder to direct him towards the one empty table in the vicinity of the bar, Dean had broken his grip so fast you’d have thought Sam had insulted their mother. Dean came back from the bar with two beers and some menus, dropping all of them unceremoniously onto the barrel-top, and that’s when Sam noticed. 

This was the first time Dean had taken off his fed jacket all day and now he was rolling up his sleeves and loosening his tie, unwinding from the persona and his bracelets were gone. This was the weird thing to end all the weird things that Dean had done all day. Since Sam had given Dean those stupid bracelets nearly a decade ago, he couldn’t remember a single day when Dean wasn’t wearing them. 

It wasn’t like they were valuable or anything. It was wooden craft store beads and elephant-hair cord that Sam had strung together at a summer camp when he was twelve. And he’d been embarrassed to give them to Dean when he got home, wondered why he thought Dean would want some lame homemade souvenir, but Dean had coaxed the presents out of Sam, and insisted that he loved them. And that was that, they’d been on his wrists ever since. But not today. Sam’s lungs deflated. 

_Fuck._


	5. Chapter 5

Stumbling into their motel room, Dean groaned and crumpled onto his bed while Sam went to wet a cloth with warm water.

“Right, can you raise your arms?” Sam came back with the washcloth and his first aid kit.

“Can I- yes, I can raise my arms, Sam. I got a little knocked around, I didn’t have a stroke,” Dean grumbled. Sam rolled his eyes, clearly not up for Dean’s shit right now.

“I meant raise your arms so I can get that shirt off you.”

“I’m flattered Sammy, but I’m a little tired from savin’ your ass.”

“I need to see your side, asshole. You got the shit kicked out of you pretty good back there.”

“I’m fine,” Dean shot a glare at his little brother, and pulled himself up the bed to lay down.

“Take off the shirt, Dean.” Sam’s voice had an edge that scraped at Dean uncomfortably, made his skin prickle with sweat, and his breath catch in his chest. He held Sam’s gaze for as long as he could until a deep breath in made him wince, and then Sam was at his side on the bed, purposefully but carefully peeling Dean’s shirts off his body. Sam grimaced when he saw the dark red blotches staining Dean’s torso. They curled across his pecs and abs and down into the waistband of his jeans. A gash cut through the bruises over his hip, no longer actively bleeding but looking no less painful for it.

Sam tugged on a belt loop of Dean’s jeans. “These too, come on.”

“I’m not stripping for you, Sam,” Dean ground out, teeth clenched as Sam prodded at his wound.

“And I’m not asking, I’m telling you.” Sam spared a glance at Dean’s face but quickly flicked his eyes back to his hands, which were carefully dabbing the washcloth around Dean’s cut. “Take them off _now_. I need to check there isn’t some kind of infection spreading out from this.”

“Geez, fine _mom_ , calm down.” Dean struggled out of his jeans and kicked them down his legs. The caustic front he was putting up was protecting Dean from more than just feeling the full extent of the pain in his side; it was the only thing stopping his nerves from spilling out into the open. He’d been around Sam in just his boxers every time they’d gone to sleep the past week, but Sam wasn’t usually running his hands all over him when he was wearing so few clothes. That hadn’t happened since…

Dean stopped his brain right there, because in pain or not, remembering that night would undoubtedly put him in an awkward situation pretty quickly. It didn’t take much to get him going under normal circumstances, but ever since Sammy had - _Stop_. He could not afford to reminisce while Sam’s fingers were gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers to get a look at the skin just below his cut, trying to determine if it looked distended or enflamed. Sam prodded gingerly along his stomach and Dean hissed, but not from pain, looking away from his little brother to hide the flush creeping down his cheeks. Some brother he was, teetering on the edge of getting hard while Sam was just trying to look out for him.

“I don’t think it’s infected, it looks mostly shallow,” Sam concluded, carefully moving the elastic of Dean’s boxers back into place. He rummaged in the first aid kit and grabbed out anti-bac cream and gauze, intent on wrapping the wound up just in case.

“I told you it was fine,” Dean huffed, hoping his bravado was masking what he needed it to.

Sam shook his head, exasperated, and ignored his protests. “Sue me for being worried about my big brother.”

Sam’s words twisted in Dean’s gut. He shouldn’t feel what he just felt. It was so beyond screwed up. But when Sam called him ‘big brother’ with a wry little smile on his lips and his eyes shining - with concern but mostly love - Dean felt his cock twitch in his shorts. He wanted to hear Sam groaning those words. _Moaning_ them. Gasping for air as he told Dean how much he loved what ‘ _big brother_ ’ was doing to him.

Dean leapt out of the rickety motel bed so fast the resulting creak made it sound like it might break. Sam sat motionless and confused, hands still poised where they had been rubbing the antiseptic cream across Dean’s skin. Dean swallowed hard and scrambled for an excuse for what just happened, feeling his dick getting heavier by the second.

“I’m, uh… I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Okay…” Sam hadn’t moved yet, still staring at Dean, eyebrows cocked, gaze dragging up and down his brother’s body. When he noticed the bulge at Dean’s crotch, Sam instantly dropped his eyes, finding a very interesting spot on his knee. _Oh_.

“Yeah,” Dean cleared his throat. “I’ll just…” he pointed to the bathroom, “yeah,” and finally he unglued his feet from the gritty carpet beneath his socks and practically ran to the cover of the flimsy composite door.

* Ensconced in the bathroom now, safely out of sight of Sam and his goddamn _hands_ , which have been tormenting him all week, Dean let out a shuddering breath. He hadn’t thought beyond getting out of the bedroom as quickly as possible but as he was here, he may as well actually take a shower. He needed one to get the blood off, anyways.

Dean turned the water on and pulled off his one remaining item of clothing. The elastic of his boxers caught against his dick, causing it to bounce and smack lightly against his stomach. He reached down and squeezed the head lightly, letting himself sigh at the relief he felt in the touch. He’d jerked off in a hurry every morning for the past week, but he felt like right now was the perfect time to let himself relax into it, rather than rush to his finish because he knew Sam was waiting just outside the door for his turn in the bathroom.

Stepping under the spray of warm water, Dean felt his tension melt a little bit more. He used the shower part of this exercise as foreplay, running his hands over every inch of his skin, softly stroking and rinsing away the blood and sweat that clung to him. He took his time threading his fingers through his hair, massaging and tugging and relishing in the slight buzz it sent down his chest to the base of his stomach. 

Reaching down again he grabbed his cock and began to stroke. He kept his grip loose, teasing just the tips of his fingers up and down his length. A soft groan escaped his lips when he squeezed around the base but he figured the water was loud enough to drown that out. Plus, Sam’s bed was the one furthest away from the bathroom door.

At the thought of Sam, unbidden images began to flash behind Dean’s eyelids. Sam’s head between his legs, hair brushing softly against his thighs every time he swallowed him down the whole way. _How did he even do that?_ Dean wondered. If he was being honest with himself he didn’t much care how Sam did it, he just wanted it to happen again.

A now familiar wave of guilt lapped at the fringes of his imagination, and Dean once again heard the small voice at the back of his mind telling him how wrong this was. How good brothers don’t touch themselves while they think about their little brother on his knees, moaning around their cock in his mouth. But god, Sam had sounded so good like that. And his moans rippling up and down his throat had felt amazing against Dean’s cock, had squeezed it so good in the tight heat of Sam’s throat.

Dean’s head fell back against the tiled wall of the shower as he let himself sink into the sensations thrumming through his body. The hand on his cock was moving faster, gripping tighter, and he had to fight to stifle the noises that wanted to burst from his chest. His mind had moved on from remembering that night with Sam and Dany to imagining Sam in new positions, doing new things, touching him in new ways, new _places_.

The hand that had been holding his balls twitched and hesitantly made its way down, further between his legs, brushing against his taint. _Yeah_ , that felt nice. Dean hadn’t tried touching himself like this before, but the curiosity had been building inside him all week, ever since he’s almost nutted from a guy sucking his cock. 

_Not just any guy, your little brother._

But Dean was too far gone to heed the reminder from his conscience this time. In fact, it had the opposite effect.

An image of Sam, on the bed between Dean’s legs and grinning sexily up at him from behind his lashes and that soft chestnut hair, materialised behind his eyes.

_“Please Sam,” Dean groaned, hands clenched in the sheets at his sides._

_“You want something, big brother?” Sam smirked up at him, licking his lips deliberately, knowing exactly what Dean wanted from him._

_“Damn it, Sam.” Dean absolutely did_ not _whimper._

_“Sound so pretty when you beg for your little brother’s tongue in your ass.”_

And Dean did whimper when he came, because it was all he could do not to shout himself hoarse. 

*

Dean’s abrupt departure left Sam reeling, but really, it was just the latest instance in a long string of weird crap that Dean had been pulling over the past few days. Sam figured it was linked back to their night with Dany, and the fairly incestuous goings on that had occurred, but it didn’t quite add up. If Dean was disgusted with what they’d done that night why was he still making his flirty comebacks? Why had he _gotten hard_ when Sam was cleaning up his wound?

Sam heard the water start from the bathroom, and it shook him from his motionless reverie. He cleared the first aid kit off Dean’s bed, leaving behind the bandages for when he got out of the shower, and began to strip out of his own clothes from the hunt; luckily his hadn’t gotten any blood on them. He grabbed his laptop out of his bag and flopped onto his own bed in just a t-shirt and boxers.

Surfing the web wasn’t doing much to distract Sam and he was feeling restless, buzzing with pent up energy left over from fighting for his life not even an hour ago. Glancing towards the bathroom door again, Sam weighed his options. He probably had enough time, considering the state Dean had been in when he fled the room. And if he was interrupted, and Dean walked in on him… yeah it was worth the risk.

Sam settled back on his bed, getting comfortable, letting his eyelids drift shut while his mind and hands wandered. His thoughts immediately travelled the short distance from his bed to the shower, where he was almost positive his brother was doing exactly the same thing as him, but he stopped short there, tried to think of something else. He drew his fingers back and forth over his thickening cock through the thin cotton that covered it as another face came to mind; his old college roommate.

_Brady pressed him hard into the door, grinding their bodies together while he swallowed Sam’s lips in a bruising kiss. Sam moaned into it easily, the alcohol he’d been plied with all evening warming his veins and making every touch feel a thousand times more intense. Hands tangled in the curls at the base of his neck and pulled, making him cry out._

_They fell through the door clumsily, kicking it closed behind them, but not bothering to stop and check if it had actually shut. That wasn’t important right now. What was important was Brady yanking on his belt and dropping to his knees and flashing a seductive grin up at him before he leant forward and licked a long, wet stripe up Sam’s cock._

Boxers discarded, Sam spit in his hand and returned to jerking himself, quick and sloppy.

_Sam locked his fingers in Brady’s hair and tried very hard not to thrust all the way down his throat. Very aware that neither of them had done this before, and that he wasn’t exactly small, he didn’t want to hurt the guy. He looked down and saw tufts of dirty blonde hair poking out between his fingers. Sam tugged back and saw green eyes and freckles and slick pink lips that most definitely didn’t belong to Brady. Dean leant forwards and suckled on the tip of Sam’s cock, moaning at the salty-sweet taste of the precum he found there._

Fuck. Sam’s eyes shot open and his hand stilled for a moment. He’d very nearly lost it there. Taking a deep breath, he slowly began stroking himself again, less hurried than before, taking time to roll his balls in his palm and letting his heart rate slow back down.

_Sam threw Brady on the bed, tearing his pants down his legs and pulling his shoes off too along the way. He crawled between his roommate’s legs, nosing his way up his thighs and leaving small licks and bites in his wake. Once he made it to Brady’s dick, he didn’t waste time teasing, and immediately tried to see how far he could take him. When he hit his gag reflex, he let up a little and sucked._

_“Shit,” Brady cursed above him. “You like that don’t you?”_

_Sam laughed as he popped off and licked over Brady’s slit, pulling a strangled groan from him. “Yeah.” Sam shoved his nose into the curls at the root of Brady’s cock and started sucking along the base, like he was trying to give him a hickey. He dragged his tongue up the whole length and sucked him down again, moaning when he got Brady to the back of his throat without gagging this time, then coming up again smiling. “Yeah I like this.” Sam confirmed more to himself than to Brady. “Did you?”_

_Brady shrugged. “It was fine, I guess-” his words caught in his chest when Sam gave another quick suck to the head of his cock. “I like this better.”_

_“Figures,” Sam laughed. “So how are we uh… who gets to go first?”_

_“Rock paper scissors?” And it’s Dean grinning down at him again._

Sam grunted and stopped himself, hand stilling on his cock, willing his brother’s face out of his memories. It was _his_ head, couldn’t Dean just leave him the fuck alone for one minute?

_Brady had been planning this, Sam realised when a bottle of anal lubricant was pulled from beneath the paltry, Stanford-issued pillows, but he found he didn’t care. So what if his roommate had been thinking about fucking him? He’d been doing the same thing ever since Brady had drunkenly mentioned ‘experimenting at college’ was on his bucket list at the last frat party he’d dragged Sam along to. They were both new at this, both not really sure how this would wind up going or what they would like, so they’d agreed they’d each take a turn fucking the other. Fair’s fair, after all._

_Slick fingers pressed against his hole and Sam shuddered, holding his breath in anticipation of what he knew came next, but Brady didn’t push in, he just kept drawing tiny, light circles over and over, letting Sam relax into it. And Sam had to admit, when he let himself relax and his nerves calmed down, it felt pretty incredible. He fumbled with the lube behind Brady’s back, getting his own fingers wet and then teasing them between the globes of Brady’s ass. Brady groaned and bucked back into Sam’s touch._

_“You like that, don’t you?” Sam taunted, throwing Brady’s earlier words back at him. Brady nodded, and surged forward to capture Sam’s smirk in a kiss. When their tongues curled together, Sam felt a finger finally nudge its way into his opening, pushing gently but insistently at the ring of muscle trying to block its path. Sam copied the movement, sliding a finger inside Brady, surprised at how easily it went in._

_The boys moaned and panted into their kisses, writhing as they built up to two and then three fingers inside each other, pressing every inch of their long bodies together, sliding slick and sweaty, and grinding their cocks together between them. “We-” Sam panted and tried again. “We gotta actually do this before we cum, man.”_

_“Aw, am I gonna make you cum, Sammy?”_

_“It’s Sam,” Sam ground out, eyes flickering to the face in front of him and catching sight of Dean, once again._

_“Whatcha waiting for then, Sammy? You gonna fuck me or what?”_

_Sam’s restraint snapped and he flipped Dean onto his stomach, hiking his ass up into the air and pushing his knees beneath him. He shoved his dick inside his brother in one brutal push, drawing pained cry from the body below him, but he decided not to care, and began fucking into Dean’s tight ass with abandon._

_“There you go Sammy, fuck,” Dean’s encouragements were muffled in the pillows his face was pressed into. “Mm, fuck yeah little brother, that’s so fucking good.”_

_“Shut. The fuck. Up.” Sam emphasised each word with a thrust, folding himself over Dean’s body and wrapping his hand over his brother’s cocky, blissed out smile. He was near his breaking point, could feel himself ready to tip over that edge, and he pushed his hips harder and quicker into Dean’s ass, groaning when he felt Dean squeezing around him, trying to get him to let go. His hand slipped off of Dean’s mouth and scrambled for better purchase, finding an anchor in Dean’s fingers wrapping tightly around his own._

_“Come on Sammy, cum for me baby boy,” Dean whispered, and Sam fell._

Sam jolted out of his fantasy when he heard a doorknob turning and quickly yanked his boxers back over himself, wiping the cum on his hand surreptitiously on the inside of the cotton and hoping Dean wouldn’t look close enough to see the stain.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's a terrible author and forgot to post chapter 6 here when I posted it on tumblr? THIS GIRL 😭 I am so sorry.

The pocket of Dean’s duffle rattled more than it usually did when he went to fish out the Impala keys. His fingers skated over the time-worn beads of his bracelets, which he had carelessly shoved out of sight the week before last. Grimacing, he grabbed his keys and slung his duffle into the trunk, leaving the bracelets in the bag. 

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken off the trinkets that Sam had given him all those years ago. He even left them on to shower, usually. Maybe the emergency doc he saw that one time to throw a cast on his arm had taken one off for an x-ray, but Dean had just moved it to the other wrist. Until the week before last, when the sight of the beads around his wrist had made him feel sick. 

He had been jerking off that morning, like most mornings, when an image of Sam and his bright hazel eyes popped into Dean’s mind right as he blew his load. He opened his eyes and saw his spunk on his hand, dotted on his stomach, and strung across the little wooden beads and black cords Sam had given to him maybe ten years before. He wanted to chop his wrist off his body; cleave the offending hand - which had just made him nut to the image of his little brother - straight off. The bracelets suddenly felt like they were made of lead and weighed so heavily on him that he could barely lift his arm. They had found their new home in his duffle bag that morning. 

Since then, Dean had imagined Sam while taking care of business more than he cared to think about, but he could convince his brain that it wasn’t that bad, wasn’t that fucked up, so long as he didn’t see the token of love that a twelve year old kid had brought him home from summer camp one weekend. He couldn’t think about that version of Sam, because if he did he wanted to put his shotgun where the sun don’t shine. If he could just separate the Sam he knew now from that image in his mind of the kid who liked soccer and Star Wars and mac’n’cheese, he could just about quell the urge to beat himself over the head with the butt of a gun. 

Sam was an adult, he could make his own choices. And the choice he’d made had been to suck Dean’s cock. That was Sam’s decision. Dean wasn’t at fault here. And it wasn’t Dean’s fault that Sam happened to be the best head he’d ever had. That was _definitely_ on Sam, not Dean. So really, Dean couldn’t be blamed for remembering that feeling, and the image of Sammy between his legs, every time his dick chubbed up… could he? 

Dean’s imaginary Sam was replaced by the real thing a few moments after he pulled the Impala up to the curb outside the small town library he’d dropped Sam off at after lunch earlier. 

“Find anything?” 

“Nah, nothing useful,” Sam shook his head. “There was a flood a few years ago that ruined most of the paper records. Barely any of the old newspapers are still in there. We’ll have to come up with something else.” 

“Well uh, hey, what about this - the newspapers are gone but maybe the people aren’t.” Dean’s smile widened and his brow hitched, nodding in encouragement at his own idea. “We could go poke around the old folks home, see if any of them remember this kinda thing happening before?” Dean pouted and shrugged. 

“Yeah, worth a shot,” Sam acquiesced. 

*

They went in posing as reporters, asking if anyone remembered a similar pattern of disappearing kids to what was happening now, but the nursing home didn’t have many residents who were able to remember what they had for breakfast, let alone the specific set of circumstances Sam and Dean were looking for. A frail woman in a lumpy red cardigan was the most lucid resident Dean managed to talk to. Her grandson was visiting her, and tried to help jog her memory where he could. He was quiet and perhaps a bit apprehensive, but still friendly, and he really did seem like he wanted to help however he could. Dean stayed and talked to the pair until he really had exhausted all of his questions. He eyed Sam from across the room, eyes flicking to the door to indicate he was ready to leave. Sam smirked at him oddly, but nodded. 

“Right, well,” Dean cleared his throat and stood, ready to leave. “I think we’ve got everything we came for. Thank you, Gloria.” Dean flashed the old lady his most charming smile, and Gloria blushed.

“Good luck with your story, young man,” she smiled. When Dean turned his back, Gloria gave her grandson a firm pinch on the wrist, causing him to cry out, and Dean looked back around. 

“I, uh-” he stammered, and dug around in his pockets before he landed on his wallet and pulled out a card. “If you have any more questions,” he offered the card to Dean who took it quizzically, “you can give me a call. Anytime.” 

“Uh, thanks man.” Dean’s brow creased in confusion, but he pocketed the card nonetheless. 

*

“What was that?” Sam laughed as they got in the car and pulled out of the parking-lot. 

“What was what?” Dean grunted, glancing momentarily from the wheel to his brother. 

“ _That_ , back there, with that guy?” Sam huffed, not surprised Dean was oblivious. “He was totally into you.” 

“What?” Dean looked over to Sam again, incredulity lit on his face. 

“Come on, Dean, how did you not notice that? That woman gave us everything she could in the first five minutes, but he just kept her talking, kept askin’ questions about the story. He didn’t want you to go.”

“He was just being helpful,” Dean countered. 

“Oh yeah, and giving you his number, that was just being helpful too, huh?”

“He didn’t _give me his number_ ,” Dean grimaced. “He gave me his card in case we had any other questions.” 

“Yeah, and he’s hoping that question is going to be, ‘What are you doing later tonight?’” Sam grinned. 

“He - that’s just - shuddup.” 

Sam dropped it for the moment, but he was absolutely not about to let that exchange go. No little brother worth his salt would. 

*

Dinner at a too-trendy sports bar later that day gave Sam even more ammunition. Their waiter _could not stop_ flirting with Dean. Sam tried his best not to crack up in front of the guy, but when he left the table to get their drinks, Sam couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Dean resolutely ignored Sam’s silent taunting, but even he couldn’t pretend to not know what was going on, and honestly it was starting to worry him. Was he giving off ‘gay’ vibes all of a sudden? It was like since he’d let a dude go down on him ( _your brother, you let your little brother go down on you_ ), other dudes had gotten a message that he was open for business. Were there just more gay men in this town than most? 

_What the hell, man._

Dean tried to hide his discomfort in idle talk about the case while he glanced over the menu. His face lit up when he flipped to the burger page. A whole _page_ of burgers. 

“Dude, they have our favourite foods combined into one burger.” 

“They do?” Sam was skeptical. 

“Yeah,” Dean flipped the menu around and jabbed his finger at the description with a dopey grin. “Mac ‘n’ cheese burger!” 

“And what about that is a combination of our favourite foods?” 

“Well, you, the mac’n’cheese and, me the, ya’know, rest of the burger.” 

“Dean, mac’n’cheese hasn’t been my favourite food since I was like, six.”

“What are you talking about? You love mac’n’cheese. You ate it, like, four or five times a week growing up.” 

“Yeah, because that’s all we could afford.” Sam shook his head and settled back in his booth. “I never wanted you and Dad to feel bad about that, I know you tried your best, but really, I don’t love mac’n’cheese.” 

Dean stared at his little brother, aghast, and ever so slightly wounded. “It’s like I don’t know you at all,” Dean grimaced, not happy. 

What had happened to the little brother he’d grown up with and made mac’n’cheese for every other night? The one who’d made him those bracelets that were still shoved out of sight in the trunk of the car. Sam really wasn’t the kid he’d known anymore. Maybe that wasn’t so bad, considering how he’d been feeling about him the past couple weeks. 

*

Dean brooded the rest of dinner, and Sam let him. Sam couldn’t fathom why he was so sour about his not loving mac’n’cheese but something about that revelation had really gotten under his skin. Dean had been getting weirder and weirder lately, and, honestly, Sam didn’t know what the hell was going on in his head. When he’d noticed the missing bracelets last week he’d braced himself for the cold shoulder, stony silence, _something_ that would indicate Dean was mad at him. But there wasn’t any anger, there was just… Sam didn’t know what. Skittishness, maybe? He really couldn’t figure it out. 

The brooding didn’t end at dinner. Dean spent the drive back to the motel glowering at the steering wheel. By the time they make it back to the motel, Sam’s fed up with this surly version of his brother, and he was fed up with not knowing what was eating at him. 

“What’s with you tonight, dude? You look like I told you Robert Plant died.” 

“Nothing’s with me,” Dean grunted, dropping onto the edge of his bed and toeing his shoes off. 

“You sure? Because you’ve barely said a word to me since dinner,” Sam argued. He crossed his arms and leant against the gaudy room partition that separated the beds from the kitchenette. “What’s eating at you?”

“You’re Mr. Stanford, you figure it out.” 

“This can’t just be about the mac’n’cheese thing,” Sam laughed humourlessly. 

“No, it’s not about the mac’n’cheese thing Sam. It’s about, I don’t know who you are anymore. You go off to college and become this whole other person?” 

“People change, Dean. There’s a lot you don’t know about me these days but it doesn’t mean you don’t know me. It doesn’t mean I’m not your brother.” 

Sam’s choice of words made Dean flinch. “Stop being so melodramatic Samantha, we’re not on a damn soap opera.” 

Sam was getting angry now too. Dean was being an ass for no discernible reason, and after his performance over the past two weeks, Sam had had enough. “I’m not saying that to be dramatic or some crap! I’m allowed to have stuff I want to keep private, fuck knows what you don’t tell me.” 

“I’m an open book compared to you man! Ever since I picked you up in California I’ve been straight with you - you tellin’ me you haven’t been? What else you been keepin’ from me?” Dean shot back vehemently. He was lying through his teeth, and Sam could tell. He was deflecting his anger back at Sam, trying to distract him.

“I don’t need to tell you everything about my life Dean, why are you pushing this?”

“Why do you feel like you need to keep secrets from me? I’m your brother, man, what’s so bad that you feel like you can’t tell me?” 

“How about, I think I’m bi!” Sam blinked, shocked. He hadn’t meant to actually say that out loud, but Dean had just kept digging and he’d been thinking about trying to tell him eventually and - there it was. Dean blinked back at him, still as stone. 

“You- you’re… you _think_?” 

“Yeah, I think, I mean - I _am_ , I just…” Sam pushed off the wall and shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He was facing Dean but not looking at him, focusing on a loose thread in the carpet under his shoe. “It’s not like I’ve ever actually _dated_ a guy I’ve just, y’know, done stuff.” 

“You mean like what you did to me?” There it was, out in the open. Dean gulped, waiting for Sam to look at him. He didn’t. 

“Yes Dean, I mean like what _we_ did. Plus, y’know, more.” 

“And that’s not enough to make you decide whether you’re gay or not? I remember you being pretty hard up that night!”

“What and you weren’t?” Sam snapped exasperatedly and sank onto the edge of his bed. “I’m not gay Dean, I _do_ like girls. I loved Jess, that was real for me, I just- I think I could feel the same way about guys too. If I was with the right one I think… I would love him the same way.”

“So you’re saying that just doing,” Dean waved his hand around in meaningless circles in the air, “whatever with a dude, that’s not enough to make you gay or bi or whatever, it’s the feelings crap too. Like, you can like when a guy touches your dick and still just… be straight?” 

“Dean I think guys like it when _anything_ touches their dick.” Sam raised his head and shook his hair out of his face, finally locking eyes with Dean. “Is _that_ what this is about? All the jumpy, weird crap over the last few days, have you been scared you became gay all of a sudden?”

Dean didn’t answer straight away, breaking Sam’s gaze and staring back down at his hands, wringing around the empty space where his bracelets should be. “What if it wasn’t just the touching what if … a dude got hard y’know just - thinking about another dude?”

Sam quirked his brow at Dean but didn’t answer him. He knew his silence would make Dean nervous, and when Dean got nervous he kept talking. And Sam really wanted to know what he was gonna say next. 

“And what if, it wasn’t just when there was a girl around too, no boobs in the vicinity to get wires crossed just- so, that on its own wouldn’t necessarily mean you’re not straight because you’d have to have like emotions about the guy too, that’s what you’re saying?” 

“You got a crush on someone, Dean?”

Dean stared blankly up at Sam then stood abruptly to grab a beer from the cooler on the formica table across the room. He popped the top off with his ring, keeping his back to Sam. “Shut up.”

“You tellin’ me or yourself, man?” Sam pushed, even more curious now. 

“So if I wanted it to happen again, what would that mean?”

“What to happen again, have another threesome?”

“Or not. What if I didn’t need anyone else there? What would that mean?” 

“I think that means that I’m a lot better at sucking cock than most of the girls you’ve banged.” 

Dean was about to vehemently deny it when he remembered that just earlier that day he’d thought the same thing to himself. Sam’s lips stretched around his cock were miles better than any of the girls he’d fucked around with. “Yeah,” Dean scoffed, and took a swig of his beer to wash down the bile that had made its way into his throat, turning around to lean against the table. “Why is that by the way?” 

“Because I actually enjoy doing it. It gets me off too, not just the other guy.” 

“Riiight.” Dean’s skepticism was comical. 

“You don’t believe me?” Sam’s eyebrows raised challengingly. 

“No,” Dean scoffed, taking a swig of his beer. 

“You ever tried it?” Sam defended. Dean was silent. “Yeah, thought so. You want to know if you’re into guys? Try going down on one, see how it feels. If you get hard, good chance you’re not as low on the Kinsey scale as you’ve always thought.” 

“Is that what you did?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I messed around in college. Like I said, I never dated any of them but yeah, I’ve fucked guys, let guys fuck me. And… yeah, I like cock.” Sam shrugged. He never put a ton of thought into labelling himself but he knew what made his dick hard, and sucking cock was definitely one of those things. 

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” Dean swore under his breath, and took another swig of beer. 

“Hey, you asked man,” Sam laughed, and the tension broke a little. The anger had seeped out of the air and settled into a palpable friction between them, like if one moved from their current spot something would catch and spark. “Look, as soon as I figured out how I felt about it all for sure, I felt a lot better. So if you’re freaking out because of everything we did with Dany, it’s okay, you just need to get your head screwed back on.” 

“And you think the best way for me to do that is to hook up with a guy?” 

“Yeah, honestly, I do. But I’m also not saying you have to, just, y‘know, think about it, I guess.” 

“Yeah,” Dean huffed, more to himself than to Sam, and downed his beer as an excuse to stop talking for a moment. 

“And hey, if you ever need help figuring it out…” Sam let the offer hang in the air for a moment before he cracked, unable to contain his laughter. 

“Fuck off,” Dean grunted, turning away from Sam and shutting himself in the bathroom so he could take a shower, and think, and will himself not to jerk off to the thought of his baby brother for the second time that day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To keep things realistic, as this chapter takes place one month on from the previous one, I figured I better make you guys wait that long too! JK, 🙃 I just suck spectacularly. So sorry for the unplanned hiatus, but I’m getting back into the swing of things, and promise the next chapter is already in progress and will be out next week 😊

**One month later**

They’re out west working a vengeful spirit case and pretending, pretty effectively Dean thinks, that the events of nearly two months ago now have been forgotten. Sam doesn’t bring it up, he doesn’t bring it up, that should be the end of that. Except it’s not. Inside, Dean’s head is a mass of tangled emotions and twisted thoughts and dark crevices broadcasting a siren’s song - like the allure of hearing a snippet of “Cherry Pie” seeping out into the dusty blackness of a desert parking lot illuminated by the warm neon outlines of poles and women - except the images hidden in those crevices aren’t mostly-naked women with too much makeup and not enough self respect. Hidden in the recesses of Dean’s mind are the images of Sam’s cock thrusting into a tight throat, and an echo of the words, “hey, if you ever need help figuring it out…”

Those words have haunted Dean more thoroughly than any ghost they’ve hunted, than any spectre they’ve burned. And Dean couldn’t manage to burn those words out of his memory. 

A knock on his shoulder draws Dean out of himself and back to the present, where the object of his fantasies sits blissfully unaware on the sticky black leather next to him. The desert is _hot_. 

“Are you listening to me man? Thought you said we were gonna pull over for the night, find some A/C?”

“Yeah, of -” Dean cleared his throat, dropping from the embarrassingly high octave his voice had come out in. “Of course, just uh, point me to the next exit I guess. There’s gotta be something coming up.” 

“Yeah, it looks like there’s a little resort town coming up just a coupl’a miles from here. If it’s a tourist spot they should at least have functioning air conditioning, maybe even a shower that isn’t broken,” Sam huffed. 

“Yeah, sounds good Sammy.”

*

To Sam’s relief they had a cool room and a clean shower about half an hour later, and he relished in the chance to stretch his legs and rinse off the dust that clung to him from driving with the windows down most of their way there. Towelling off his hair with a rough shake he lobbed the towel onto the bed and grabbed for a fresh t-shirt. 

“I’m going to grab some grub. You want to come or you gonna stay and read that nerd book you picked up in the last town?” 

“You mean _Mythology of the Spirit in the American West_?” Sam corrected Dean exasperatedly. 

“Yeah, like I said, nerd book. You coming with or not?” 

Sam huffed and considered his options. He was looking forward to sitting down with that book, but he’d also been cooped up in the impala for innumerable hours not too long ago, and it would feel good to walk around for a bit, even if his brother was being an ass. 

“Yeah, sure. I’m coming.” 

*

Dean picked out the first joint they walked by with bright lights and loud music. This was definitely a tourist town, because even on a weekday this place was packed, but Dean liked the noise and the buzz. It made a welcome change from the monotony of his thoughts broadcasting over a tinny radio all day. 

The place didn’t have much in the way of decor beyond the theme of ‘bar’. It was crowded with mostly guys - dressed a little more loudly than Dean would have expected but, hey, they were probably on vacation, cutting a little loose - and the occasional group of girlfriends had tables dotted around as well. It looked like your typical food and drink establishment. 

Sam slapped him on the arm and gestured to a free table on the other side of the room. Dean gave him a thumbs up and pointed to the bar, to indicate he’d grab the first round of drinks and hopefully find a menu while he was at it, he was starving. 

The bartender gave him a friendly smile when he asked for two draughts and pointed out the menus when Dean asked. Dean grabbed the first beer that was passed over to him and hung around at the bar while he looked through the menu and waited for Sam’s drink. That turned out to be a poor tactical decision, because standing alone at a bar and being as attractive as Dean is a combination that invited attention. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” 

Dean looked up, startled, into the face of the tanned, polo-shirt-wearing guy that had just spoken to him. He was giving Dean what was supposed to be an open, disarming smile, but which really just looked weirdly nervous. 

“Uh, hey,” Dean responded, leaving it open for the newcomer to pick up the conversation, but not really knowing what to say to him. 

“Nice night, huh?” 

“Um, yeah, sure-”

“Here’s your other drink, man,” the bartender cut across the exchange and dropped the second glass next to Dean’s first. 

“Thanks,” Dean grabbed quickly for the second drink and tucked the menu under his arm before grabbing his own. “Uh, nice to meet ‘ya,” he nodded awkwardly to polo-guy and hurried past to get back to Sam, who was playing on his phone at the table, leaving any thought of how weird that was back at the bar with the now deflated looking tourist. 

An hour later, suitably fed and two beers down, Sam suggested a game of pool. 

“You know I’m always up for beating your ass, Sammy.” 

Dean grinned and racked up the strangely coloured billiard balls in a bright pink frame. He’d never seen rainbow-coloured pool before but, whatever, people were weird. He gave Sam the break, and tried very hard to look anywhere but his baby brother’s ass as he bent stoically over the felt top and crashed the cue into the white ball, grinning smugly when he straightened up and rounded the table to pound a brightly striped ball into a corner pocket. Dean breathed a sigh of relief that he no longer had to avoid looking at Sam with his perv-o-vision on, but realised too late that the front-on view of Sam wasn’t any less enticing. 

The way his chestnut bangs curled over his brow and caught on his insanely long eyelashes - _seriously was he wearing mascara or something?_ Dean yanked himself from his thoughts, only to be confronted with Sam’s eyes glancing up at him from behind those lashes and curls, like he wanted to check Dean was watching him while he took his shot. He holed another ball, and the clack and thunk of ball against porcelain and then wood shuddered through Dean and settled in his bones. The cocky smirk on Sam’s face took it one step further, and sent a shock of arousal through his chest and down. 

“I’m gonna go get us some refills,” Dean grunted and motioned to their mostly empty glasses. Sam shrugged and eyed his next shot, smirking to himself, under the assumption that Dean was bailing because he didn’t want to watch Sam slaughter him right out of the gate. He was partially right. At the rate he was going, Dean was going to be on the floor soon; and it had nothing to do with the pool or the alcohol, and everything to do with the thoughts Sam was stirring inside him. 

Up at the bar, Dean called for two more beers, and a double shot of something strong. The amber liquid was dropped in front of him quickly while the bartender waited for the taps to clear. Dean took a healthy gulp and let the burn in his throat ground him, reminding him of what he could control in this world. And maybe he couldn’t control his thoughts about Sammy, but he could control how mind-numbingly drunk he got to forget them. Taking the second and last gulp of the liquor, he nearly choked when he felt a tap on his shoulder. And he knew it wasn’t Sam, because he was watching Sam still bent over the pool table from across the room. 

“You drank that pretty damn quick,” the stranger chuckled deeply. “Good stuff?” 

“Strong stuff,” Dean grunted, and flagged the bartender for another, which was quickly poured out for him. 

“I know something else pretty strong that would feel good sliding down your throat.” This time Dean did choke on his liquor, prompting the stranger to thump him on the back, which Dean flinched away from violently. “Sorry hombre, didn’t mean to scare you like that,” the stranger had the decency to look slightly abashed, “it’s just… you got the best damn blowjob lips I’ve ever seen.” Dean almost swallowed wrong again. 

“I, uh…” Dean cleared his throat, grasping at straws for words that made any sense, and tried again. “That’s, um, that’s very flattering of you but I’m not… uh, ‘on your team’ amigo, sorry.” In a bid to hide his awkwardness, Dean went to down the rest of his drink. It stung on the way down, where the flesh of his throat was raw from choking. 

“Oh, sorry man, I thought uh- with your friend over there you two must be… well, among friends here.” He gestured vaguely around the room and Dean followed his motion, paying closer attention now than he had all night. And that’s when he noticed that a lot of the guys were sitting just a little closer than friends do, the groups of girlfriends dotted around all had pairs amongst them… His eyes darted back to Sam and the rainbow coloured billiard balls he hadn’t thought too hard about before. 

Dean’s stare hardened when he noticed that Sam, who had pocketed all his balls, effectively finishing the game while Dean was at the bar (and Dean did _not_ let his heart strings tug proudly at that), was leaning casually against the side of the table, arms resting on his pool cue in a way that made him look carelessly sexy, eyes raking over a guy slightly shorter than him with spiky hair and a tight henley. His brain echoed with the sounds of shattering glass as he turned, wide-eyed, back to the incredibly forward man who had been hitting on him. 

“This is a gay bar?” Dean hoped he didn’t sound offensive, he was just confused. 

“Wow,” the stranger laughed, tucking a hand into his pocket, “you really are straight aren’t you?” 

He shook his head bemusedly and slapped a bill on the counter, gesturing for two of what Dean had just been downing. When they arrived, he clicked his drink against the glass he pushed in front of Dean. “Hope you forget whoever it is you’re drinking to forget about, and if you want some help with that, I don’t mind working with beginners.” The stranger left with a wink and made his way back to his group of buddies across the room, laughing off their sympathies at his strike out. 

Dean was left at the bar, puzzled, embarrassed, but vaguely flattered. Except then he remembered Sam was talking to someone, some jag-off who didn’t know how to buy clothes that fit him properly, and a feeling he wasn’t sure how to name writhed and burned in his chest. Eyeing his little brother over the drink he’d just been bought, Dean tried to do a little introspection for once. If he didn’t have a name for what he was feeling, then it was probably something new, right? It wasn’t his protective instincts kicking in, Sam could take this guy easily; _could probably split him in half,_ Dean thought to himself ruefully. But then that thought conjured up an image Dean wasn’t mentally prepared for. 

Like he was watching it through the flickering of a candle, shadows jumping across the figures he was trying to focus on, Dean saw Sam grab the man’s hair and slam him over the pool table with his arm twisted behind his back, saw Sam pull down his too-skinny jeans and bury his face between the guy’s ass cheeks, saw Sam naked, slamming into him, _splitting him in half_ , the muscles in his back flexing and glistening with sweat in the weird half light Dean was watching through. 

In a blink, Sam and his boy-toy had disappeared. Not just from Dean’s lecherous imaginings but also from Dean’s actual view. Panicked, he searched for Sam in the crowd, breath easing when he saw him further down the bar ordering drinks, but every muscle in his body clenched when he saw Sam’s hand land on his companion’s shoulder and squeeze. 

What the hell did Sam think he was doing? Picking some random guy up in a bar? That wasn’t like him at all, that was Dean’s thing. Except, when was the last time he’d gone home with someone? A few weeks? A month? With a gut-wrenching feeling, Dean realised that he hadn’t taken anyone home with him since Dani and Sam. So maybe picking people up in bars wasn’t his thing, if he hadn’t done it in so long. Maybe now it was Sam’s thing. 

_But then what’s my thing?_

Dean scrambled in his head for a new identity, a new label. Something like ‘big brother’ that he could use to define himself, ground himself in the haze of confusion he felt himself slipping away in. Hunter? High-school dropout? Badass? Border-line alcoholic? He looked up from his empty glass and cast around his surroundings, frustrated and dazed and searching for an answer - and he locked eyes with Sam. 

_You’re the guy who’s hopelessly in love with his little brother._

Fuck.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam looked up at the sound of slow clapping, expecting it to be Dean returning with their refills just in time to see Sam pot the last ball. But he couldn’t see Dean, and it took him a moment to identify the clapper as the guy with dark blonde hair strolling towards him with a look of contemplation on his slim face. 

“That was pretty impressive,” the guy nodded at the pool table, and Sam straightened up a little, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Uh, thanks,” Sam shrugged, the game he’d felt so proud of - and wanted to rub in Dean’s face a moment ago - now making him feel self conscious. He hadn’t meant to draw any kind of attention to himself. That was normally Dean’s forte.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” 

“My um, my brother taught me.” Sam clutched the pool cue between his hands, eyes darting around and landing on Dean at the bar. His breath eased a little once he knew where he was. The new guy’s eyes followed Sam’s and found him watching Dean at the bar. 

“That guy’s your brother?” 

“Yeah,” Sam nodded cautiously. 

“Well, that is a relief,” he laughed fully, openly. 

Sam was taken aback. “Why?” 

“Because if he was your boyfriend I was probably gonna get beat up for hitting on you.” He smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling, but still a little shy. 

Sam blinked, dumbfounded. He didn’t know why he hadn’t been expecting it. He’d had a suspicion that this place was an LGBT haunt based on the number of same-sex couples he’d noticed dotted around, but that hadn’t led him to the conclusion that he’d maybe have an opportunity he hadn’t had since Dean had picked him up from Stanford. Sam glanced nervously back to Dean at the bar, watching him knock back a shot of something, not paying attention to his little brother. But why did Sam even care if Dean saw him talking to this guy? He breathed out sharply when he realised that he didn’t have to hide this from Dean - he’d come out to him last month. He didn’t have to be worried about what Dean thought if he saw him talking to - what was this guy’s name? 

“I’m Sam,” Sam offered his hand, and the man took it, shaking it firmly. Sam noticed how smooth the guy’s hands were. 

“Chase,” he smiled wider still, like he couldn’t believe Sam was actually having a conversation with him. 

“So are you, uh, here with anyone?” Sam wasn’t used to making small talk anymore. The only people he talked to were Dean or law enforcement - or witnesses to supernatural phenomena. 

“A few friends,” Chase nodded behind him, but not with enough direction for Sam to actually tell which table of people he might have been talking about. 

“Do you, um,” Sam let out a sharp, amused exhale, not really believing he was actually doing this. “D’ya want to have a drink?” 

Chase smiled brightly. “Yeah, I’d love that,” he nodded, and the pair started towards the bar. “Then maybe you’ll be so kind as to show me just how you play that game over there?” 

Sam grinned, this guy was pulling out a classic, but it was a good one. 

“You want me to teach you how to play pool?” he smirked and moved closer behind Chase, bracing his hands on the bar on either side of him, and ducked down to speak against his ear. “I should warn you, I’m a pretty hands on teacher.” Sam felt Chase grin, even though he couldn’t see his face. 

“I think I’m counting on it. I might need a lot of hand holding,” Chase laughed at his own joke, probably realising how lame it was, but Sam thought it was cute. 

While Chase ordered drinks, Sam glanced over his shoulder across the bar and caught Dean looking right at them. Sam blushed under his brother’s intense gaze, a little embarrassed that Dean had been watching him come onto this guy so strongly. But how was that different to any time Sam had to watch Dean flirt his way through every available pair of boobs in these joints? He decided it wasn’t; he didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. Sam gave Chase a once over from behind, eyes lingering on his ass.  _ Yeah, definitely not ashamed of this, _ Sam resolved. He flicked his eyes back up to meet Dean’s again and gave him a bold wink. 

*

Dean’s face was blank, but his gaze wavered between shock and dread. He’d never seen Sam flirt so blatantly with anyone before. He’d never seen Sam flirt with a  _ guy _ before either, but he guessed he should have expected that to happen eventually. It hadn’t really hit him before now what Sam being bi really meant. It wasn’t just that he was happy to have a threesome that involved two guys instead of two girls, it meant that sometimes he would want to sleep with guys, just because. 

The pride Dean usually felt when Sam successfully picked up a chick wasn’t making an appearance right now, though. This was different. Dean reluctantly realised that the difference here was jealousy. He looked at the guy Sam was pressed up against and took in the spiky hair, the henley pulled across decently toned muscles, the black leather cord he wore as a necklace. He was about Dean’s height judging where he stood against Sam. Angry voices inside him shouted at Dean to break it up, stop Sammy from doing this, _protect_ _him_ , though from what, the voices didn’t care to elaborate. Hopeful voices inside tried to soothe his anger. Telling him that maybe Sam wasn’t with him now, but the guy he was with looked just a little like Dean… maybe… and what if that meant that Sam was drawn to him for that reason? 

Dean shut down  _ that _ internal dialogue with a grimace, and ordered another shot. He wasn’t gonna stay here and watch Sam hit on some guy without getting drunk. 

*

Sam and Chase were two drinks in and back by the pool table, and Sam was having more fun than he could remember having in a long time. Watching Chase bend over the table, ass pressing tight against his jeans, and knowing that he was doing it so Sam could look… it was exhilarating. Even the vague prickling on the back of his neck every time Dean looked over at them gravely didn’t spoil Sam’s mood. He knew his brother was just being an overprotective ass. 

Chase shot him a coy smile over his shoulder, still bent over trying to corral all the balls into their frame. Sam grinned back freely, eyes glinting with want that he knew Chase could see. 

“You gonna show me how to hold this stick?” 

“I’m gonna show you so much more than that,” Sam promised. He pressed against him and threaded his arms through the smaller man’s, slotting their hips and their hands together. “You want to hold it firmly, but not too tight. Just give it a little squeeze.” 

Chase burst out laughing, shaking Sam off his body. Sam stood back, confused and a little offended at the reaction. Chase’s eyes glinted under the fluorescent light hanging above them. 

“I’m sorry man,” he stifled another laugh and tried again. “Sorry, I just, I couldn’t not think about the innuendo there.” Sam smirked and moved back to Chase, bending him back over and leaning into him heavily. 

“That was sorta the point  _ man _ ,” Sam breathed in his ear. “Now, put your hands back on that long piece of wood and do as you’re told.” 

Sam realised then that he had been repressing this part of himself for far too long. Or at least his dick thought so, because it was paying quite a bit more attention than it usually did in public. 

He was never shy about wanting to be the one in control in the bedroom, but with girls, he never really knew how they would take it. He always worried about hurting them if he was being too rough. With guys it felt a little different, he felt a little freer, like he didn’t have to be scared of throwing them around as much. And he’d had enough to drink that his filter wasn’t inclined to hold him back anymore. The shiver that had run through Chase at Sam’s words only solidified Sam’s resolve to take this guy home and absolutely wreck him. 

*

Dean thought he was gonna be sick. Most people would think that was down to the amount of alcohol he’d just downed in such a short span of time - switching to tequila had either been a very good or a very bad decision on Dean’s part - but in actuality, he was still on the good side of drunk. The thing churning his stomach and pulling him apart from the inside was what he was watching his baby brother do to that twink pressed against the pool table across the bar. 

Jesus, they were in public and Sam was practically dry humping the dude. At least respectable people would go to a club and hide behind dancing as an excuse. But there was his brother, his  _ little kid brother _ , practically fucking some stranger right in the middle of the room. What the fuck does he think he’s doing? 

Dean had never seen Sam so blatantly sexual before. Well no - that was a lie - he had seen him that way once, when he’d been pounding into Dany so hard he shook the bed, and looked right at Dean when he’d broken down inside her, staring right into his eyes as he came undone. But the way Sam was looking at him had Dean believing that, maybe, Sam wasn't thinking about Dany at all.

Dean wanted to pretend that he was only offended by the sight before him because it was indecent -  _ not cool, bro _ \- but if the guy below Sam had been him, he wouldn’t have given two fucks how decent they looked, so long as Sam showed everyone watching that it was them who belonged together. That Sam belonged to  _ him _ , inside  _ him _ .  _ His _ . 

*

Chase was a horrible pool player. But that might have more to do with the fact that Sam was grinding a semi against his ass every time he helped him line up a shot. Poor guy had to be at least a little distracted. After two games of utter domination from Sam, he took pity on his playmate and graciously bought him a drink to mellow the loss. 

Locking eyes over the wet edged shot glasses, Sam tipped his back and swallowed, long and deep. Sam watched as Chase’s eyes traced his throat and down into the v-neck of the t-shirt he’d revealed when he unbuttoned his flannel during the second game. His eyes settled there for a moment, and Sam wondered how long he would linger there before he caught himself. His breathing quickened slightly - bringing his chest up and down with it, and Chase continued to stare. The attention only aroused Sam more. But it was over when Chase blinked harshly, and brought his eyes back to Sam’s, looking a little startled. 

“What?” he said stupidly, fingers slipping on his glass, still full and hanging in front of his lips. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Sam enunciated, a knowing smirk back on his lips. 

“Yeah,” Chase nodded and downed his own drink, licking his lips to catch the drop of alcohol that had spilled over. Sam’s eyes locked on his tongue and followed it back inside Chase’s mouth. Their lips met briefly, Sam pulling back almost immediately to check he hadn’t misjudged things - to check he was actually about to follow through on going home with this guy. 

Chase’s face was hot, colour staining his already sun-kissed skin, eyes wide like he was staring into the sun. Sam jerked his chin towards the door, brows raised, and Chase nodded and leant in close so Sam could hear him better. “I’m just gonna grab my things, meet you outside?” 

“Yeah,” Sam nodded and squeezed Chase’s arm in reassurance. “I’m just going to let my brother know where I’m headed.” Sam jerked his head to where he had clocked Dean hunched in a booth nursing a hefty glass of whiskey. 

* 

“Hey,” Sam slid into the seat across from Dean, slapping a rhythm against the table as he sat down. 

“Someone’s chipper,” Dean grunted sourly, taking a swig of his drink. 

“Someone’s bummed out.” 

Sam’s sass tugged at the corner’s of Dean’s lips. but he didn’t let it get an actual smile out of him. 

“Sorry the girls here weren’t exactly ‘your scene’,” Sam did look a little apologetic, but he couldn’t wipe the smug excitement off his stupid face. 

“Yeah, well,” Dean grunted again, and knocked back more of the burning liquid, “about time you got laid, was beginning to think you’d accidentally pulled it off from jerking too much.” 

“Ew, dude, gross,” Sam grimaced. “How would you know how much I jerk off, anyways?” 

“We live in each other’s asses, Sam,” Dean excused, not caring to mention the fact that he knows Sam’s jerked off in the shower every night since he’d picked him up from Stanford, and he’s spent the last month joining in from the other side of the door. Choking down the jealousy and shame that came with it, Dean pushed Sam out of the booth with his foot. “Now go on and fuck your little boy toy, he’s over there waiting for you.” 

Sure enough, when Sam checked over his shoulder, he saw Chase waiting anxiously by the door. 

“You gonna be alright, man? You got a motel key?”

“Fuck off,” Dean grumbled, and watched sullenly as Sam made his way through the crowds of people to the door, slipping out behind his company for the evening. Dean knocked back the rest of his glass and stood, stretching the stiffness out of his joints. He didn’t want to stay here, but he didn’t have anywhere else to go besides the motel room. Remembering they had passed a convenience store on their walk here, Dean figured drinking alone was less embarrassing if he was actually alone while he was doing it, and made up his mind. 

-

Arriving back at their room with a bottle of Jack he’d already cracked into, Dean crashed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. What the hell was he doing? Sitting in the dark, drinking himself to sleep because his baby brother went home with someone else. Pathetic. Pining over Sam had become Dean’s new favourite pastime without him even realising it, and most certainly without his permission. 

Dropping his hand over the side of his bed and groping for his duffle, Dean managed to dig his hand into the side pocket hiding the bracelets that he’d pushed out of sight nearly two months ago. Curling his fingers around the smooth-worn wooden beads, he dragged them out, clutching them hard until he felt his nails cutting into his palm. 

More Jack; these relics in his hand from a time when he used to be a good big brother, one Sam could actually admire and love, and Dean decided he was done. If he was gonna add this to the list of everything else that was fucked up in his life, then he was gonna goddamn lean into it. He knew Sam had noticed that he wasn’t wearing them anymore, and the thought that Sam might think Dean was mad at him, or didn’t love him with literally everything he had was unacceptable now.

He dropped the beads on the comforter and the bottle on the nightstand, and rose to pull off his jeans. If Sam was getting off tonight there was no reason he shouldn't. But at the thought of Sam, Dean couldn’t stop himself thinking about the guy he’d gone home with, who he’d had bent over the pool table in front of the whole damn bar. It was too easy to picture what Sam was doing to him now. Dean settled back against the lumpy pillows and squeezed himself over his boxers, letting himself sink into the images flashing through his mind. 

_ Sam pressing that bastard up against the door. Sam threading his fingers through the short, dark blonde hair and pulling -  _ the very thought draws a gasp from Dean, wishing it was him Sam was doing those things to, pressing those kisses to, scraping his teeth against and leaving marks on. 

*

Inside Chase’s apartment, Sam didn’t waste any time. He had him pressed against the door with his wrists pinned over his head in a heartbeat. His kiss started teasing and light. He nipped at Chase’s lips, and the tip of his tongue that had tried in vain to connect to Sam’s. He dragged his teeth across the five o’clock shadow that dusted Chase’s jaw and down, locking on the hollow up his throat and pulling a heavy sign from his partner. 

Sam kissed his way back to Chase’s lips and devoured him this time. Their tongues slid together but there was no fight for dominance, no illusion as to how this night was going. Sam was in charge, and that was just where they both wanted him. 

Lurching backwards, Sam pulled Chase along with him, and they stumbled blindly around the entryway and managed to fall through the door to the bedroom - Chase’s doing. Sam’s jacket and shoes were discarded on the floor, Chase’s henley tossed onto the scattered laundry piled at the bottom of his bed. The sight made Sam smirk, one more confirmation that he went home with a guy tonight. 

Sam sat on the bed and dragged Chase on top of him, grabbing his neck and forcing their mouths back together. At a loud groan from Chase, Sam opened his eyes and stared into the blue-grass eyes he remembered admiring in the bar, but in this dim light they looked darker, greener, and suddenly, Sam wasn’t looking at Chase anymore. 

*

Dean tried to picture something,  _ anything, _ other than Sam but he couldn’t. He saw Sam rolling himself on top of that guy and dragging himself down -  _ would they be on the couch, or a bed? _ \- down to the fly on his irritatingly well-fitted jeans and popping the button open with a grin. He saw him pulling the denim down and off, saw him mouthing hungrily over the cotton-covered bulge he found himself faced with, tonguing along the head and leaving a dark stain behind. 

Dean groaned and pulled himself free from his boxers, needing it faster, tighter,  _ meaner _ . 

*

Sam swallowed Chase down eagerly. He didn’t even have the patience to pull his boxers all the way off, and he twisted the fabric in his hands, pulled it tight. It had been  _ so long _ since he’d had a cock in his mouth he nearly gagged himself in his excitement to suck down every last inch. Chase whimpered above him, lost in the heat of Sam’s throat. Sam could tell he was trying so hard not to lose it already, so he eased up a little. He didn’t want to see Chase cum until he had his cock inside him. 

Granting Chase a brief moment of reprieve, Sam slid further down until his tongue was thrusting in and out of his ass. Chase tried to squirm away but Sam held him down, bracing his arm across the slim hips to keep his prey in place. Chase managed to fish the lube and a condom out of his nightstand and throw them vaguely in Sam’s direction without Sam needing to stop his tongue’s assault. Sam knew he was rushing, but by the time he pushed inside of Chase’s not-prepped-enough hole neither of them cared. 

*

Dean could feel it, hovering out of reach. He wanted it so badly but he couldn’t get there, and the frustration was starting to outweigh the desperation. The volume of alcohol couldn’t have been helping things either, but logic wasn’t what Dean was interested in right now. He needed something else, something more. Grasping in his mind for the images of Sam to come back, Dean’s fingers clawed against the bedspread, tugging on his cock relentlessly. Then his fingers nudged something - Sam’s bracelets. 

Without thinking too hard, Dean clutched them in his fist, bringing both hands to wrap around himself and pressing the small, cool beads against his heated flesh. He still wanted more, needed something to cut through this haze of want and really make him  _ feel _ . He wrapped the worn strings around the base of his dick, cinching tightly, and squeezing a whimper of pain through his lips. But that pain was just the spark he needed. 

The urgency he’d been chasing before came rushing back, and visions of Sam above him, touching him, choking him, calling him a desperate, pathetic little cockslut, beat against the inside of his eyelids, and he was cumming harder than he could ever remember. He felt a white heat burning through every artery, vein, capillary in his goddamn body, and it brought him to an edge he never knew existed. It was agonising, and perfect. 

*

Sam fucked his hips into Chase’s faster and faster. Their teeth met more often than their tongues as they kissed frantically, both reaching the ends of their tethers. Chase grabbed himself and pulled, beating himself faster and faster until he spilled into the sweat pooling between their bodies, groaning Sam’s name. Sam thrust harder and harder and froze, crammed so deep inside he barely fit, and then he was cumming; spilling his seed into Chase, and spilling Dean’s name from his lips. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chase said he didn’t mind, that it didn’t matter that Sam had said an ex boyfriend’s name. They both knew this was a one time thing, no big deal. But Sam was spiralling. Chase didn’t know that ‘Dean’ was his _brother_. He had to get home, back to the motel, just _out of here_. He couldn’t take Chase looking at him all understandingly, with a little pity mixed in, like he was a lost puppy or something. He wasn’t. 

Sam got his bearings and started the walk back to the motel. It was a couple of miles but not that far, and the desert night hadn’t turned too cold yet. He welcomed the long walk. He had needed to get out of Chase’s apartment but he wasn’t exactly rushing to get back to his motel room. That he shared with his brother. Whose name he had just moaned when he came inside another guy.

Sam couldn’t fathom how this had happened, how he’d let it get this far. Sure, he’d had a crush on Dean as a kid (honestly it was the one thing he ever had in common with everyone at the schools he crashed in and out of every few months), but he’d pushed past that. When he left for Stanford, he turned over a new leaf, and messed around, and then found Jess and he was better. He had fixed this. He _thought_ he had fixed this. 

Sure, Dean would still creep into his dreams every now and then, hanging on the edges like some voyeur watching his thoughts, but Sam hadn’t actually had a sex dream about him since he was a teenager. Well, until the fucking threesome. What the hell made him think that would be a good idea? 

Sure, Sam, go ahead. Have a threesome with your biggest childhood crush, that’ll be fine. Hey, now you’re here you may as well suck him off, that won’t make things worse at all. What a fucking idiot he had been. 

Dean was everywhere now. In his life, in his thoughts, in his dreams, there was no escaping him. And then a month ago, when Dean had said he was thinking about doing it again? Sam had had to work very hard to cover his erection with his beer and some tactical leaning forward on his knees. And when Dean had said he was thinking about guys in _that_ way … except it didn’t sound like he was thinking about 'guys’ exactly, it had sounded like he was thinking about  _ Sam _ . 

Sam didn’t know what had come over him but before he could stop the words from tumbling out he was offering ‘hey, if you ever need a hand figuring it out...’ Stupid, stupid, stupid. He had absolutely fucked it up, then. Dean had been acting weird ever since that night. Not obviously weird but noticeably like he was holding parts of himself back around Sam, like he wasn’t fully comfortable anymore. And Sam was just waiting for the next screw up to happen and drive Dean away from him for good. 

Thank god he hadn’t taken Chase back to their motel room. If Dean had come back early and heard that, heard him… 

Sam shuddered and hunched himself tighter inside his jacket, tempted to pull up his hood and run away into the night and never have to face Dean ever again. But he knew he could never do that. No matter how fucked up it was, Dean would have to tell him to get lost himself, nothing less would keep Sam away from him. 

Up ahead, the broken neon of the motel sign glinted in and out of sight as cars passed him, rushing off to better places and normal lives. Sam wondered if Dean would be back yet, checking his watch. Yeah, most likely. Not too many bars stayed open this late. That means unless he’d found someone to go home with after all, Dean would be inside waiting for him. 

*

Dean yawned and stretched, scratching his stomach where a bit of dried cum had clung to his happy trail. He should just go to sleep but he didn’t want to dream what he knew he’d dream about. If he passed out though, at least he probably wouldn’t remember the dreams in the morning. He’d flicked on the grainy tv and found some bad porn where the girls were all fake boobs and fake orgasms. Not his kind of thing, but honestly more entertaining than the soap opera reruns the other channels were showing. 

A crunch of gravel outside caught his attention and he sat up in bed, taking another swig of Jack. The handle of the door twisted softly and Dean reached for the gun he’d slid under his pillow. As much as common sense told him it would be Sam coming back to the room, he was very much not expecting Sam home tonight. But a moment later Sam crept through the door, trying to be quiet, assuming Dean would be asleep by now. 

“And what time do you call this?” Dean smirked from the bed, taking another drink. 

“Gah!” Sam shouted, drawing his gun and aiming at Dean. 

“Woah, easy tiger,” Dean held up his hands in peace, “s’jus me.”

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face to compose himself. “Why are you still up?” 

“Why are you already back?” Dean countered. 

“Didn’t want to stay over,” Sam shrugged, shuffling to his bed and discarding his gun and jacket. 

“Was he that bad?” Dean cringed. 

“No,” Sam grimaced. 

“Were  _ you  _ that bad?”

“Wh - no! I was  _ not  _ bad,” Sam shot back. 

“Someone’s a little touchy,” Dean teased. 

“Am not!” 

“Definitely touchy,” Dean confirmed, more to himself than to Sam. 

“Shut up dude,” Sam grunted, pulling off his shirts and throwing them into the dirty laundry bag he had inside his duffel. Dean stared at Sam’s bare back. Why not, right? Sam couldn’t see him doing it. His eyes traced the muscle definition, noticed the slight glisten of sweat that had no doubt arisen from Sam’s walk home, noticed a dark halo at the top of Sam’s shoulder that hadn’t been there the last time he’d seen Sam shirtless. 

“What the fuck is that?” Dean staggered off his bed and over to Sam to poke at his shoulder. 

“Huh?” Sam looked down to where Dean’s fingers were prodding the bruised ring of a bite mark on his skin. “Nothing, just uh- he got a bit excited.” Sam blushed. 

*

Sam’s skin seared when Dean’s fingers landed on the bite mark Chase had left behind when he came. The touch had startled him but he didn’t flinch away, and now Dean was still standing there, just running his fingers over and over and over the mark. 

“Whatever, man,” Sam shrugged his brother off and bent to grab a clean t-shirt out of his duffle bag but Dean’s hand on his chest stopped him. “Dean?” Dean didn’t answer, just kept Sam still and straight while he continued to trace the bruise with his eyes. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

Dean didn’t answer, he just stood there. Sam saw his tongue dart out and wet his bottom lip, followed by his teeth digging in, something he always did when he was thinking. Dean’s eyes were dark and clouded. He’d clearly been drinking the whole time Sam was gone, but there was a latent concentration behind the haze that had descended over them. 

“What’s on your mind, man?” Sam turned out of Dean’s grip to face him. 

“You know,” Dean sat down on Sam’s bed, bringing his head level with Sam’s waist. “A guy at the bar told me that I had, and I quote, ‘the best damn blowjob lips’ he’d ever seen,” Dean smirked lazily. If Sam had been drinking anything he would have spit it across the room. 

“What?” 

“What do you think?” Dean looked up at Sam, a new sort of determination in his eyes. 

“What do I think about what?” Sam stuttered. 

“Well, you’ve been around. You’ve been with guys. You get blowjobs, you give blowjobs too. You think I have good blowjob lips?” 

Sam was flabbergasted. If his walk hadn’t done the job of sobering him up, this conversation definitely would have. He felt his throat closing up. He couldn’t tell Dean what he thought about his lips. He couldn’t tell Dean that he used to fantasise about his lips so much he would spit in his hand and pretend it was Dean’s mouth wrapped around his cock instead. “Wh - I … um.” 

“You have good blowjob lips,” Dean stated matter of factly. “I remember, they were really good.” 

“Um, thanks –” Sam’s voice came out much higher than he’d wanted, “– I guess.” 

“Real pretty lips,” Dean mumbled, staring at Sam’s lips, then dragging his eyes down. Down Sam’s chest, and lightly defined abs, and the white strip of cotton peeking out of the waist of his jeans, to the button that all of the sudden Dean’s fingers were on. 

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam knew he should push his brother off himself but he was frozen in place, watching Dean’s fingers flicking the brass button through its buttonhole. 

“Taking you up on your offer,” Dean grunted, tugging Sam’s jeans down his legs. 

“What the he-” 

“You said if I ever needed a hand figuring it out…” Dean dropped to his knees. “Well, I’m trying to figure it out, figure  _ this  _ out.” Dean gestured to the bulge in front of his face where Sam’s cock had started to chub up in his underwear. “Just, just let me?” 

*

Dean looked up at Sam from his knees, his hands in the waist of Sam’s briefs. Sam looked down at him stoically, mouth gaping as he tried to calm his breathing. He nodded, and Dean nodded back, and gulped down his nerves. He tucked his fingers into the elastic and pulled the briefs down too, revealing Sam’s semi-erect cock. 

Dean’s eyes lit up. Yeah he’d seen it before but never this close. He brought his hands up hesitantly, planting one on Sam’s thigh to steady himself, and bringing the other to brush against the head of his dick, which was still hanging down between his legs not standing tall yet. Sam hissed when Dean’s fingers brushed against him, and Dean darted his eyes back up to his brother’s face. 

His eyes were crushed closed, lips parted and glistening in the low light of the lamp between their beds. Dean caressed his fingers along Sam’s length and watched his face contort, wrinkle and pinch. He wrapped his hand around the whole and squeezed lightly, drawing a gasp from Sam. The cock in his hand was nearly fully hard now, and Dean spotted a small bead of moisture at the slit. Without thinking about it at all he stuck his tongue out and touched it to the tip. Dean could swear what he heard from Sam then might have actually been a whimper. 

He looked back up at Sam, fascinated by his face as he touched him. This time, when he brought his tongue back to Sam’s cock, he kept his eyes on Sam’s face and watched the pleasure rinse across it. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but he had a dick, he knew what he liked people to do to it, he figured it couldn’t be that hard, right? 

Dean licked his lips and kissed the tip of Sam’s cock, then kissed it harder, used his tongue, heard Sam moan. He uncurled his fingers and held Sam in his palm as he kissed down his shaft to the base and down, kissing across his balls. Sam moaned again. Right, Dean thought, time to actually do this. He licked a long strip up the vein that was pulsing obviously in Sam’s length and pulled the head into his mouth, giving an experimental suck.

“Aah,” Sam groaned, his hand landing on the top of Dean’s head and combing through his hair. Dean began to bob his head up and down a little, testing how it felt in his mouth. He found he really liked the feel of the skin against his tongue. There wasn’t something he could pinpoint it feeling like, but it was soft, smooth even though he could also feel the veins running close under the skin when he dragged his tongue along their lines.

Dean felt Sam’s hand travel to the back of his head, where it pushed forward slightly, encouraging him down further. He let Sam guide him, remembering at the last second to pull his lips over his teeth on the way down. Sam’s groan rattled through his body, and Dean smiled around the cock in his mouth, loving that he’d pulled that sound from his baby brother. 

“So good,” Sam sighed under his breath. Dean’s eyes flicked back to Sam’s face as he sucked harder and pulled off. 

“Is this okay?” Dean asked, pumping his fist around Sam teasingly. 

“Yeah.  _ God _ , yeah,” Sam moaned as Dean twisted his thumb over the tip. Sam’s hand slid around to Dean’s face and rested on his cheek, thumb stroking over his lips. “That guy was right,” Sam huffed, “you’ve got great blowjob lips.”

Dean smiled and darted his tongue out to wet his lips again, catching Sam’s thumb as he did. Sam made a little hum at the contact, so Dean did it again. He brought Sam’s thumb in his mouth and twirled his tongue around it, pulling a grunt from him. Dean’s eyes lit up. 

“So, your cock isn’t the only thing you like me sucking on, then.” 

“How about you shut up and keep sucking, hm?” Sam’s eyes were hard and burning, and Dean wasn’t about to disobey him. Sam’s thumb hooked into Dean’s cheek and pulled him back to his cock, dragging him down its length until he couldn’t breathe, his moans growing deeper the further Dean took him. “Now keep your head moving,” Sam instructed, tugging back on Dean’s hair so he understood. The sharp pull sent a thrill down Dean’s spine and a little moan escaped him, resonating through Sam. 

“Yeah, that, do that,” Sam gasped, and Dean moaned again as he drew off Sam’s cock and plunged back down. “Fuck, you look pretty with my cock in your mouth,” Dean groaned in approval, trying to communicate to Sam how much he was appreciating the commentary. 

“Oh, you like that? Like me telling you how hot you look on your knees for me? Want me to tell you how much I’ve wanted you there since Dany asked you to touch me?” 

Dean’s moan choked off into something higher and more desperate than he would ever admit to. He really,  _ really  _ liked Sam talking to him. Redoubling his efforts, he started to move more quickly, hollowing his cheeks and sucking harder every time he pulled back. He kept one hand on the base of Sam’s cock, holding it in place so he could move around it, but his other hand crept down into his own boxers. Sam’s noises had all gone straight to Dean’s cock, and he’d been painfully hard for too long, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

When Dean pulled his cock out from under his waistband he groaned at the cool air hitting it, and in relief at finally being able to touch himself properly. Sam felt Dean slow and peeled his eyes open to check what had changed. He caught sight of Dean’s hand around his own cock and chuckled darkly. 

“I don’t think so,” Sam shook his head and used his leg to bat Dean’s hand away from himself. “You can touch yourself after I cum.” 

Dean whined and took his hand off his cock, bringing it up to Sam’s instead. 

“Good boy,” Sam smirked. 

Now motivated by the fact that he couldn’t get himself off until he finished Sam, Dean tried to take his brother's cock deeper than he had been, but had to pull back when he gagged. 

“Woah,” Sam tugged Dean back and rubbed his neck while he caught his breath. “You don’t need to kill yourself, dude,” he chuckled and brought Dean’s lips back to his cock. “Just focus on the tip, keep that real nice and wet,” Dean followed the instruction eagerly and closed his lips around the ruddy head of Sam’s shaft. “Mm, yeah,” Sam groaned appreciatively, “and use your hands at the base,  _ fuck, _ yeah, like that.” 

Dean did what Sam said, suckling at the head of his cock enthusiastically, spit leaking from his lips, which he used to ease the glide of his hand along the shaft. He built his pace up, quicker and quicker, humming when he felt Sam start to tighten and heard his breath begin to catch. 

“M’close, De, clos-  _ shit _ !” 

Dean felt Sam’s balls draw up tight to his body and fuck _ , _ if that wasn’t  _ so _ hot. He pulled his lips tight around Sam and laved his tongue over the slit and something salty and warm gushed out. Dean moaned at the taste, his mouth falling open. Sam’s cum painted his tongue, spurted against his lips, dripped down his chin. It was filthy, and Dean loved it. 

“Fuck,” Sam groaned, looking down at his big brother. “Lips look even better with my cum on them.” He reached out and smeared it around Dean’s mouth, pushing it back between his lips for Dean to swallow down. 

Dean sucked down every drop Sam gave him, pulling another finger into his mouth. He figured he was safe now, and brought his hand back to his dick, squeezing to relieve the pressure that was building. As he stroked messily at himself he sucked harder on Sam's fingers, swirling his tongue around them in lyrical patterns and trying to memorise every groove of his fingerprints. 

“Guess my cock is the only thing you like sucking on,” Sam panted teasingly, parodying Dean’s own words back to him. He dropped to his knees next to Dean and began to nuzzle against his brother’s neck, nipping and licking as he went. 

Dean was past caring how desperate he looked, he needed to cum so badly he felt himself almost whine around Sam’s fingers in his mouth. Sam started to pump his fingers in and out, fucking Dean’s mouth while he frantically jerked himself off. 

“God you really like this don’t you?” Sam whispered against Dean’s ear reverently. “Such a little slut for me,” he bit at Dean’s ear and brought his hand to join Dean’s on his cock. Sam’s touch was the final stroke for Dean, and he crumpled against Sam, coming over their hands with a hoarse shout and Sam’s fingers pressing against his tongue. He whimpered as Sam withdrew his fingers but that was quickly stifled when Sam brought his other hand to Dean’s lips, hesitantly, but Dean didn’t need to think about it before he lapped at Sam’s hand, sucking his own come off his baby brother. 

Sam stared at Dean, soberly, cautiously, but still with the burn of arousal in his eyes. Dean met his gaze, eyes glassy and unfocused, still coming down from his high. Sam’s finger pulled out of his mouth. 

“So,” Sam cleared his throat, “did that help?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter created for SPNKinkBingo - Square: Finger Sucking


	10. Chapter 10

Sam blinked his eyes open slowly, light flashing through his lashes as he squinted against the day. He lay still, listening intently for any other sounds in the room, though he was almost positive Dean would still be asleep, considering how wasted he’d been last night. Rolling over, Sam felt his morning wood shift against the sheets and shivered; he’d slid into bed naked, too tired to find a clean pair of boxers after the night he’d had. He reached down to squeeze himself, head craning towards the bed beside his, looking for Dean’s hair sticking up against the lumps of pillows. He didn’t see it. Realising that Dean wasn’t in his bed – that he wasn’t in the room at all – Sam’s erection deflated. 

Dean had run. 

Sam had screwed it up big time.  _ Fuck _ . How had he let it get this far? First it was all- ‘ _ She wants sex so much she wants two dicks in the equation _ ’, then it was his mouth on his brother’s dick and  _ God _ , he had wanted more than that – so much more. He’d wanted Dean’s cum on his tongue, his cock in Dean’s ass, he’d wanted… 

And then he went and offered to help if Dean needed a hand figuring his shit out and that was  _ just a fucking great idea, Sam _ . Now, look how fucked everything was. He’d let Dean touch him, suck him –  _ he’d almost kissed him _ – he’d smashed that one remaining wall between them – and now Dean was gone. Dean was done with him. He was too fucked up, even for his own fucked up family. And Dean had finally realised he wasn’t worth the trouble. 

-

Sam had gone on a run, heart sinking when he couldn’t find the Impala in the parking lot where it had been yesterday. He’d run through town, keeping an eye out for the car, peering into diner windows, looking for any sign of Dean. His bag and jacket had still been in the motel room, which had given Sam a small sliver of hope that maybe Dean wasn’t gone for good, but he wasn’t certain. He wouldn’t have put it past Dean to wait until the moment Sam had been asleep to slip out and bolt, without a second thought or backwards glance, and packing up a duffle might have woken Sam back up. 

There was still no Impala when he returned to the motel, sides burning and barely able to breathe, though that wasn’t totally to do with how far he’d run. Sam ducked in the shower and scrubbed at every inch of himself, trying to wash away the guilt and despair that clung to every hair on his skin. It didn’t help, because when he got out of the shower and shook the water out of his bangs, the Impala was still nowhere to be seen. 

Sam tried Dean’s cell. His other cell. His  _ other _ other cell. Nothing. Dean had left him with nothing and no one, and Sam didn’t have the first clue what to do now. 

-

Dean was in, well there wasn’t really a better word for it than a parking lot but it was hardly that. He’d pulled the Impala into a patch of dirt cleared behind an abandoned barn off the highway about ten minutes the other side of town from where he’d left Sam. 

He’d pretended to pass out quickly after Sam had lumped him into his motel bed, but the alcohol hadn’t numbed the hurt when Sam had left him to climb into the other bed, not bothering to dress either one of them. Dean stayed quiet – still – waited until Sam started to snore, then crept to the clothes he’d left strewn on the floor, shrugged them on and slipped out the door. 

Dean revved the Impala and peeled out of the lot and driven to the first dark, secluded space he could find, parked up, and laid down to sleep in the front seat. It hadn’t been sleep so much as it had been alcohol blanketed exhaustion, but his eyes were closed and his thoughts finally went dark. 

-

When the sun poked holes in Dean’s skull, he shot awake and groaned in pain. He was hanging out of his ass and he did not want to be alive. Fumbling in the glove box, he pulled out a bottle of water and the max strength pain pills they kept on hand in case a hunt bruised them up badly. He took three, and lay very very still. Eventually the pain in his head dulled, allowing his thoughts to sharpen. 

He was panicking. He didn’t know if last night proved that he was gay or bi or whatever, honestly he wasn’t sure that mattered at this point. It proved to Dean that he was in love, completely and utterly, with his baby brother. The kid he’d pulled from a fire and raised and sworn to protect, and now he had to protect him from himself. From this sick  _ whatever  _ that had grown up inside Dean and taken root. Or maybe it wasn’t something new, something invading, maybe Dean had always been...  _ this _ . Maybe the painful reality was, Dean had always been bad for Sam. He should have left him at Stanford. He never should have been surprised that Sam wanted gone. That was what was best for him. 

But it wasn’t what was best for Dean, and last night had also proved to Dean that he was weak. He wanted to give in to this feeling, to his brother. He wanted Sam, he wanted to be  _ his _ . And he didn’t think he could stay away now that he knew that for sure. 

Except, what if  _ Sam  _ didn’t want  _ him _ ? How could he? Of course he wouldn’t. He’d always wanted to help, wanted to be useful. That’s what he’d offered last night. He’d offered to help Dean sort out his head, his sexuality, he’d offered to be a friend and take one for the team so Dean could get the answers he needed. He hadn’t offered  _ himself _ . He hadn’t offered what Dean really wanted from him. 

So where did that leave Dean? Did he drive back to the motel, pretend it had never happened? Play it off as a mistake caused by his being the drunkest he’d ever been in his life (which it might well have been) and just… go on living? That was better than never seeing Sam again, Dean decided. 

He stuck the keys in the ignition and the volume of the engine made his brain clench inside his skull. Coffee... and bacon. And then Sam. 

-

It’s later, much much later than he had intended, when Dean finally felt like he could face Sam. He knew Sam would be angry at him no matter what time he showed back up, so he figured it was worth waiting until he actually felt a little more human and a little less giant walking headache before he put himself in that path of destruction. He parks the Impala in an empty spot right outside their room, and sees Sam’s face pop out from behind the horrible yellow curtains covering their room’s window. Dean braced himself and climbed out of the card, fishing for the motel key in his pocket, but the door burst open before he could find it. 

“What the hell, Dean!” Sam shouted, his volume making Dean cringe in pain a little. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he grits out as he slips into the room under Sam’s arm. 

“Morning?!” Sam is still shouting. “Dean, we passed ‘morning’ nearly six hours ago, where the hell have you been?”

“Out,” Dean grunted, going to splash some water on his face in the bathroom. The shock of cold against his skin helped numb the headache back down to manageable. 

“Yeah, I kinda figured that much out,” Sam huffed, following him into the small space of the motel bathroom. Dean turned around against the sink and found himself cornered against the stained countertop. Sam was looking at him with that kicked puppy look that he used when he wanted to inflict maximum guilt. “I was worried about you, Dean.” 

Dean’s chest swirled with a weird mix of emotions. Guilt that he’d made Sam worry, happiness that Sam clearly didn’t hate him, because he was worried and he’d wanted Dean to come back, more guilt that he was happy about that. He felt a little sick, and he wasn’t sure if it was the hangover or the churning feeling that had started in his gut when Sam stepped even closer and Dean realised he wanted to kiss him. 

“Quit being a baby, Samantha.” Dean pushed past Sam and tried to ignore the goosebumps that shivered up his arm when their fingers brushed. 

\- 

Sam wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch Dean or press their lips together, but he knew he wanted something, some contact to convince him that Dean was actually here. That he was real, and he’d come back. Not even Dean calling him Samantha bothered him too much right now. Yeah, he was angry at Dean, but more than anything else, the relief in his veins was making him high. 

Sam distinctly remembered the one time he’d smoked pot in college and how he could not control a single thing he did in that state, like his brain and his body were disconnected. And it felt like that now when he marched up behind Dean, spun him around, and kissed him. 

His whole world swam behind his eyelids as he pressed himself against his big brother and clung on with everything he had. Every sensation was mushed together in his head and it took longer than he would like to admit to understand that the warmth he was feeling was Dean’s arms around his waist, and Dean’s tongue in his mouth. When that fact finally registered in Sam’s head, he gasped against Dean’s mouth, eyes flying open and reeling back, half scared it would be Chase, and not Dean in front of him. Like maybe all of last night was a fever dream and nothing with Dean had ever happened. 

But when he looked down in front of him he saw Dean’s green eyes, and freckled skin, and five o’clock shadow, and cracked lips shining with their combined spit, and he broke into the widest smile he could ever remember wearing. Dean looked up at him, stunned, questioning, but happy behind all that, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. “I was worried, Dean.” 

“You’re such a girl, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was strained, like he’d forgotten how to use it. 

“I think we both know –” Sam dragged his hands down Dean’s face, his shoulders, his arms, catching hold of his wrists and bringing one hand to the bulge in his jeans that had formed the second his tongue had slid against his brother’s, “–I’m not some little girl,” Sam breathed, a violent light shining behind his eyes. “Or do you need me to remind you?” 

“Yeah?” Dean gulped, the question clear in his face. 

“Yeah,” Sam nodded and crashed their lips back together. 

-

Dean rolled off of Sam, panting, eyes glossed over with the force of the orgasm Sam’s hands had just wrung from him. He glanced at Sam, also breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling with a small smile on his lips. Dean blanched and looked away again. 

“How are you so cool with this?” He spoke more to the ceiling than to Sam. Now they weren’t caught in the moment he was having a hard time looking at his brother. The ceiling was easier. 

“Cool with what? What we just did?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t know, I guess… I’ve had more time to get used to it than you.”

“You mean more time to get used to liking dick?”

“No,” Sam shoved his shoulder against Dean’s, rolling his eyes. “More time to get used to liking you.” 

Now, Dean looked at Sam, and once he did he couldn’t take his eyes off him. Sam’s chestnut hair curled along his brow, his eyes glowed with more colours than Dean could think of names for.  _ Sam liked him?  _ He felt a little like he was going to be sick again but in an inexplicably nice way. Sam seemed to realise that Dean wasn’t capable of verbalising an answer to his statement, so he continued. 

“Dean, the reason I experimented at college in the first place is - I was already pretty sure I was bi, I just wasn’t about to fool around with a guy where Dad or you might have seen me. And the reason I was pretty sure I was bi… it was - you were my first crush, Dean.” 


End file.
